Ace of Spades (Joker Fanfiction)
by the-killing-j0k3
Summary: She was unattainable, and he just wouldn't give up. She was just a college student, and he was a psychopathic criminal mastermind. She was his ace of his spades, and he was her missing card. Stella, barely on the verge of being eighteen, finds herself caught up in a whirlwind of insanity, emotions, adventure and sex- and the Joker isn't going to do a thing to stop it. (Joker x OC)
1. Chapter 1: Two's Company

_**J** **ust some fic I thought of when I couldn't sleep one night. Not planning much of a plot, so I most likely won't finish it and even end up scrapping it... but whatever. I'm writing it out of pure, sole enjoyment and I apologise greatly if you think any characters are acting OOC. If I get enough positive reviews and comments, then maybe I'll start thinking this plot through a little more seriously and invest more into it?**_

 _ **Cool. :)  
**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Two's Company**

"Dang it."

Stella gave a careless glare to her report card grade and sighed. Her slight groans and incoherent noises of disappointment were barely audible over the grumbling of the bus engine. She did art in school because she was good at it, at least she thought so. What she wasn't good at was writing, reading consciously for more than five minutes about things she needn't know and give in a pile full of essays and masterpieces worth A grades by the next week. Stella supposed she really bit off more than she could chew when she thought her options through.

She'd have to hide her grade from her mom. God, she'd kill her so bad, Stella thought, and even though her mom barely gave a care about anything she did in all honesty, at the very least her mom didn't want her to be stupid. And Stella understood that. She thanked God she wasn't stupid.

Her steel eyes gazed away from the report card and around the bus and out the windows. The seat next to her was the only spare on the whole bus. All of the other passengers were either students from her college or workers from the office building nearby. All of the students huddled up in groups, laughing loudly together or ignoring one another, blandly texting anyone else.

 _That's a little pointless._

It was raining outside. Everything had a dull white tint thanks to the boring grey clouds and the boring humidity and the boring weather that bore boredom. Stella couldn't remember the last time the flower gardens she drove past photosynthesised actual, pure sunlight. Only smoggy energy bulb worth light.

The bus passed Wayne Enterprises and she'd found herself staring. She wondered why some rich guy with dead parents needed such a tall building for a workplace. She didn't really know what they did there, but she'd never heard the Enterprises' name in the press much, except for when Bruce Wayne did something unimportant- like walking out of the back of a store or something. She wondered why a billionaire would sit there on his ass all day being fed from a silver spoon to just be payed more money; it was a waste. All for a hopeless cause.

Stella supposed that was what money really was, just a hopeless cause to keep humanity in a single form line from desperation and rebellion.

Her mind drifted from her thoughts and back to the here and now as she was once more snidely greeted with the failing grade of her art degree. Stella wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings as the bus ground to a halt; her mobile phone slyly slid off her lap and under the seat in front, and she helplessly tried to bend down and grasp it without either falling or looking like an idiot. As the bus set into motion again, it just swam further down the row of seats. _Dammit._

Stella shrank back into her seat and heaved a heavy breath of exasperation. She supposed she couldn't get her phone until her stop, and that was if nobody picked it up first.

There came a man onto the bus, although tall and dressed quite obviously, the light haired girl didn't bat an eye over to him. Not out of ignorance or awkwardness, but because her mind was stressing too much over her failing grade and how sad the weather made her feel to barely pay attention to his presence. The man, dressed in a deep purple suit, looked immediately to the spare seat beside her. He watched how her brows furrowed in worry and how her ankles kept crossing one over the other, how she squirmed and shifted uncomfortably. He _liked_ the squirmers.

" _Excuse_ me, can I, uh, _sit_ here?"

Stella didn't look up to the purple-clad man who questioned her just out of sheer social awkwardness and instead just continued to smile and nod and say, "Yeah, sure.", whilst looking at the empty seat before it was filled with a man maybe four of five years older than her (just judging by the length of his legs). Her head instantly connected the fact that his trousers were purple. _Why purple?_

She pretended as though the man wasn't sat there just to make herself feel and look more relaxed. She didn't dare look at him in case he caught her peeking, and that'd be embarrassing. So with her head bent, she glanced over to what she could see of him without moving her head.

The man knew. He was watching her every move, yet he said nothing, did nothing, only allowed her curiosity to be satisfied, while he satisfied his own.

Long, strong legs, and upon his knees were two, large masculine hands. But at the same time, they looked soft and tame. There was something artistic and aesthetically pleasing about hands Stella couldn't get her head around. Perhaps it was the fact that all hands were different, and all graced with different fingers. Maybe how flexible and what hands could do was what appealed to her. She wasn't sure.

She looked down at his feet. Classic, sleek black shoes, fancy enough to wear to a party. But what really stole her attention was the fact that he wore odd socks. Not only were they odd, but they both had strange, colourful geometrical patterns.

 _Weird._

 _Says the girl with blue ball point penned stars all over her hands._

Stella looked at the back of her hand, in the crook of the web between her index finger and thumb. Stars adorned her hand from that corner scaling up, and if she were correct, there were 17 stars drawn. One for each year.

She could recall sitting at a lonely desk in English earlier that day; ignoring the lecture lesson Mrs Addams was giving to instead look out the window. It was strange, but there were always two white doves perched upon the windowsill of the opposite classroom. They nestled up to each other in the corner and sometimes during Summer, if the window was open, Stella could hear them coo quietly and lovingly once every five minutes.

She found it nice to just observe them.

Stella was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a small weight push against her foot. She looked down and nearly jumped out of her seat in joy- her phone had slid back up the bus! She reached her hand down for it and just as her fingers managed to touch it the bus stopped at a red light.

The bus skidded to a stop, its engine exhaling down, and back down the aisle went the phone.

Stella sighed and leant back in her seat before silently groaning. She pushed her hair back and rested a hand on her forehead for a moment.

It wasn't even that big of a deal. It was just her bad luck constantly biting her ass that pissed her off.

"You look _stressed_." A low chuckle came from beside the girl which soon escalated to tiny, quiet high pitched giggles. The man had been observing her and how her lips curled negatively and the way her brows crossed anxiously. It seemed as though she were the only one on the bus with her own little grey cloud of rain circling above her, and he could only wonder why. Did she just have a bad day? Forgot something? Failed a test? Broken up with her boyfriend? Of course, even he was capable enough of knowing she was a good looking girl and assuming she had a partner or whatever Gotham's idiots called it, he added that idea to his lists of why she looked so glum. So _serious_.

Stella didn't even look at the person, but his voice was gravelly enough to confirm his gender as a guy. Stella scoffed in soft laughter and nodded. "I am."

"What's on your _mind_?" He asked, and she recognised a teasing smile in his words. "Tell me what _cogs_ are, uh, _turning_ inside that precious little head of yours."

Stella dared to glance up for a moment, only catching sight of the man's scraggly brown hair and his eyes, darker than bottomless wells. Although his hair was a little messy, he pulled it off without looking like a hobo. The little attire he wore had cleaned his image up anyways. Although strange, it didn't stand out too much.

 _I just hope he isn't some weird pervert_ , she thought.

Stella sighed shyly and her fingers tapped repetitively at the report card that just so happened to be within stress-tapping range at that moment. "Well... uh, I failed my art class for the term."

The man hissed between his teeth and then exhaled. " _Yikes_. What was the grade?" He didn't really care, but still, it was conversation. It broke the ice. Lord knows all he needed was a little something to relieve the weight on his shoulders as well.

Ashamed and a little embarrassed, the girl dipped her head down. "A D minus..." She then cleared her throat. "I needed a C to pass."

He chuckled in sympathy, still don't care. " _Surely_ you can't be, uh, _that_ bad at a subject you must've liked in order to want to take i _t_ ," His T's slipped sharply off of his tongue at the end of words and his M's sounded like they could've stretched on forever. Stella had never heard anybody speak like that- so patiently, so thoughtfully and slowly. His words alone made the world seem like it wasn't turning so fast. They dragged her in at his pace, and they seemed to control to what he wanted, how slow or fast he wanted the conversation to go. It was so unique and it made her wonder how she'd never listened close enough to anybody else's speech to hear such detail before. "I mean, ya gotta be good at what you, ah, _do_ \- right?"

She nodded in agreement. _He's right_. "You're right."

He smacked his lips as a few moments passed, as if he was ready to speak again. It was a strange kind of smacking sound, not like a popping or a smooching noise, but a short, clean smack of his lips. It was a tic he was too careless to try and hide.

"You, uh, _good_ at any of that stuff, then?" He asked, and she felt his gaze pierce the side of her head. She tried her best to not want to look at him from the corner of her eye and she swallowed. _She really is a squirmer._

Stella shyly shrugged. "Um. I guess...?" She suggested, sucking on the bottom of her lip. Then she shook her words off, shaking her head lightly. "Well, I mean if I failed I surely can't be good enough..."

The man scoffed to himself at her irrational thought. "Aw, tut, _tut_. I bet that ain't, uh, _true_. Got any of your stuff on ya, then? Lemme take a, uh, _look_." He asked, a leather gloved hand gesturing towards the girl's backpack which accompanied a carry round portfolio. He was curious to see what talent the little toy had.

Stella felt her face redden, too embarrassed to want to show him but at the same time she felt guilty for wanting to lie to him. So she obliged to his request, her fingers fumbling forward.

"Uh... sure, hold on, lemme just get it..." She swallowed hard and reached for her portfolio and sat it on her lap. She unzipped the case and pulled out a few of her personally favourite pieces, and some watercolour practice paintings of nebula, space stuff and stars. Stella liked stars. Space just fascinated her and it was truly scary- so vast- yet beautiful.

Stella quickly looked at his face now he was distracted. She caught a glimpse of how his dark eyes lit up at the sight of her own work as he flipped through picture by picture things so personal to her she'd never dared to show anybody else but the teacher who marked her work. Her palms turned clammy and she only hoped her face had cooled off a little and still wasn't bright red with shyness.

He was- to bluntly put it- impressed. Very impressed. Having a past obsession with some forms of art himself, he suddenly felt... inspired. For the first time in years. He was fascinated by the twists and turns the girl's brush seemed to take and he found the mixes of colours had some familiarity to them. The violent streaks on one piece caught his eyes and all he saw was red. Just a mess on canvas, a pretty gorgeous mess.

He chuckled. "And they, uh, failed you?" He asked in disbelief, turning to face the girl yet she looked back down, away from his stare. He didn't like that she wouldn't look at him. Was it his hair? The suit? The occasional click of his tongue? Or something else...?

"I think it's because I didn't write things... like, I didn't have enough time..." Stella admitted to his verbal question, bashfully taking back her work and packing it back where it belonged.

"You in high school?" He casually asked out of curiosity, with no intention of being creepy or too much in her business. He wanted to know who he was dealing with, as did she. But neither of them commented about it.

"College," She said. "My second year, actually."

His tongue tapped the roof of his mouth in thought. "You're... eighteen?"

"In three months."

"Doing anything, uh, _nice_ for your birthday? Eighteen's a pretty, uh, _special_ number, ya know." Stella could see a blur of his head jokingly nodding in a matter of fact way, and she let out a little laugh.

She shook her head to his question, "No, I don't think so. The last major celebration for my birthday I had was my sixteenth," She chuckled at the memory and held a hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. "It was a total disaster. My mom called the wrong stage act and I ended up getting a crappy rip off band of Mötley Crüe play one song before the singer tripped over a balloon and broke his leg." Stella tried not to giggle but her shoulders shook with laughter at the memory and she imagined the guy smiling with her to make herself feel better. Little did she know, he was.

He found that laughter was the best medicine, and it kept even him sane sometimes. He watched as her brows raised over shut eyes and how her rosy cheeks flared behind her hand. He also hated how she was hiding her laugh. What was the point? Wasn't it better to be seen _and_ heard? "And to top it off I had sparkling candles on my cake and my aunt set fire to her hair-" Stella had to stop to hold back a hard laugh, "-so then the paramedics came and half of the guests already went home and it was just me, my mom, and three of my other friends left to hear my uncle badly sing karaoke to Abba!" She eventually broke and burst out laughing and she slapped a hand over her mouth but felt relieved when the man next to her began laughing too and they were both nearly hunched over trying to catch their breaths. "Oh my God, it was awful..."

He relaxed back in his seat but his laughs were still slow to cease and he still giggled between words. It wasn't the story that was funny. It was her laugh. It was contagious. "Gosh, that sounds like a _blast_."

The girl nodded and smiled. "Jeez, tell me about it."

Comfortable silence was exchanged between the two as they both looked ahead, smiling, whilst staring down the people who glared at them for laughing. Stella could barely remember the last time she'd laughed so much. She barely knew the guy and she thought she was setting things off pretty damn great. She was glad to know he had a great sense of humour and knew how to take a stupid joke. He could handle her sarcastic sense of humour. It was nice to not be on her own for once. Not to be the only one laughing.

The familiar heavy scraping noise of a mobile phone slid closer towards her as the man's head followed the direction of where the object slid... right by his seat. He picked the thing up and Stella was relieved to see it was her phone, finally back again.

"Uh, this _yours_?" He tilted the phone towards her and she nodded graciously, taking it from him and dusting off the screen with the leg of her jeans.

"Yeah, thanks." She mumbled with a smile.

She was too nice, he thought, and mentally, he grimaced.

Stella looked outside the window to see a familiar road leading to her home, and realised this was where she'd have to leave her briefly made friend.

She clutched onto her things. "This is my stop... s'pose this is goodbye," She hummed as he pressed the stop button for her and stood aside, letting her out into the aisle. He sat back in his seat and she smiled, but avoided looking at him. Although not showing it, he was annoyed. "Thanks for keeping me company." She awkwardly and bashfully said, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag.

He grinned at her, now able to take in her form. She was shorter than he'd expected; petite, fair skinned, fair haired... a typical girl, nothing special to her. "Any _time_ , toots."

Stella smiled at the little pet name she'd acquired, whether or not her nickname would last only until she stepped off the bus didn't bother her much- she was proud that she finally had the courage to have a full conversation with a total stranger without making an idiot of herself. And it boosted her confidence.

Stella gave a small, single wave to him as the bus stopped and she made her way down to the front of the bus before being stopped by who she'd consider her new friend.

"Hey, _kiddo_." The man's voice raised in order to get her attention. She turned and finally looked at his whole face, this time in shock as he grinned. _At least she's looking._

His eyes, dark, endless pits of black. His hair, chocolate yet tinged with some coloured dye she couldn't decipher, messed to perfection. His posture, strong yet casual, like he owned the place. And his mouth. A proud little smirk stretched by two marks at the corners of his mouth. Two, long, white snake like lines. Thick scars, a Glasgow grin.

Stella was absolutely and utterly stunned how something so dreadful appeared on the face of who she'd deemed decent, and his devastating innocence came back when he said, "You get home _safe_ , now."

She didn't have a moment to reply as her leg stepped off the bus and onto the sidewalk and before she could turn back, the doors slid shut. Stella stood with a curious look as the bus drove by and she took one last glance at the man's captivating scarred smile through the glass window, perhaps gone forever to her.

He thought the same of the girl. A fun little thing to pass time. Boring, but fun. _Oh well_ , he thought, knowing he'd most likely never see her again. At least it'd make it seem he'd get back to his apartment faster.

Stella's head ached with confusion and her stomach spun with anxiety. It all felt like a dream to her. It was strangely unreal... his mouth...

Her thoughts were forced to be paused when her phone buzzed in her hand. She picked it up without consideration and her mom was on the other end of the line.

"You walking home or d'you need me to pick you up?"

Stella looked aimlessly down the road and blinked, looking down.

"I'll walk home," Stella said, "And I'll get myself a takeaway on the way, so don't wait for me."

"Wasn't my intention." Stella could practically hear a joking smile just by the words she spoke. The line clicked to an end and Stella ended the call, putting it back in her pocket and starting to walk to where she intentionally headed.

And she walked slow, she strode long, like his words. She needed time to think about what exactly she'd just witnessed.

* * *

 _ **I hope you enjoyed :)**_

 _ **I'm pretty sure just judging about the type of fanfic this is, you may already know who the man on the bus was... I mean; if the vaguely familiar purple suit and scarred mouth didn't give it away. Y'know.**_

 _ **Comment/review and feel free to tell me if there's any errors or mistakes (I previously wrote this in 1st person, so if there's any pronoun mistakes, please point them out to me!)!**_

 _ **;)**_


	2. Chapter 2: Home

_**I actually couldn't wait any longer. You're getting early uploads. You're welcome in advance. ;)**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Home**

I was relieved to see the front door of my house was locked. When it was unlocked, the fat red door seemed to loom over me and tell me in a sinister tone that my mom was home. When it was locked, it looked homey. Red turned to blush. Fat turned to strong. And an accompanied home became empty.

Just how I liked it.

I rattled my keys in the door and turned a few times whilst wriggling the handle, but finally I got it right and pushed myself in. I shuffled my scruffy Converse sneakers on the door mat and eventually shut the door behind me, making my way to the kitchen.

I liked being alone solely for the fact that I felt independent and that I had the enjoyment of my own company. I liked my mother being out- not for any sob story, she didn't beat me, never laid a finger on me. Although she did tend to ignore me and she got a little snappy sometimes. But the ignorance was bearable. I was in my room most of the time, anyway.

But not today. Today I had the living room.

I dropped my backpack in the middle of the hallway and made a beeline for the living room, kicking my shoes off into the corner. My mint socks, too large for my feet slipped and slid on the floor but getting the remote and slumping myself down on the sofa was barely a challenge.

I flicked through the channels, finding nothing to watch except for bad movies made in the 80's and rip off cartoons of classic animations. I groaned and chewed the sleeve of my sweater, silently hoping I had recorded an episode of Parks and Recreation the night before- but nothing.

"Ugh." I sighed, eventually turning over to the news channel just for background noise. I grabbed my phone and rage played Flappy Bird just for shits and giggles. Who even played that game seriously anymore, anyway?

After restraining myself from throwing my phone out of the window, the TV took my attention.

" _A killing streak by one of Gotham's most infamous criminals was committed earlier today, with an estimated six deaths and five major injuries. It has been assumed that one of the world's most notorious killers, the Joker, is the perpetrator who broke into Gotham Bank and terrorised local civilians."_

The news woman babbled on and I sighed with fake pity, and sarcastically droned; "Oh, no, mom, please don't die." My mom worked for Gotham's bank. I assumed she was okay. She probably was. She always snaked her way out of bad luck somehow.

" _The Joker afterwards made an escape, and is roaming around Gotham right now. If you find him, please don't hesitate to call the GCPD, this is urgent."_

A picture of the guy showed up on TV and I looked. He sure looked... well... ugly wasn't the right word. He was terrifying, and the creepy clown look didn't do that justice- although I doubt it wasn't his intention to look less scary. His deathly white pale face contrasted against his well pit black eyes and his crimson red smile, and the corners of his mouth had something eerie about them but the camera's angle couldn't show me the best of them.

I sighed. Gotham was useless.

His eyes were dark, like bottomless wells. They rung death, and fear. There was something odd about him poking in the back of my mind but I couldn't figure out what or why.

Actually, he reminded me of the guy I met on the bus. It was a shame. The moment I'd actually caught a glimpse of his face, he was rather perfectly handsome, with light gold skin that made his pearly whites gleam when he smiled. And then those dreadful scars... he'd been perfect if not marred.

 _Could it be...?_

I dismissed the thought instantly as I heard the rattle of the front door, I jumped in shock and I turned the channel over to something else just in case.

"Hello? Stella?" My mom's voice called from the front door and I sighed in relief. Just her. She stopped in the doorway of the living room and looked at me. "You would not believe what happened- are you watching Baby TV?" She squinted her blue eyes, as mine shifted to the TV. She was right. My random channel flicking had made a fool of me again.

"Uh..." I hummed, thinking of an excuse. "My therapist said it's therapeutic. Y'know. Can't be thinking about dad again..." I mumbled in a joking threat, shrugging my shoulders.

Mom wasn't amused. "Whatever. Go upstairs and do... whatever. Do some 'emotional art'," She finger quoted, shooing me away. "Do stuff your therapist _really_ told you to do." Without replying I obeyed, grabbing my bag from the hallway and trudging my way upstairs.

Walking into my room, I groaned at the mess I'd earlier made. All my papers from my desk were scattered on the floor, and my pyjamas thrown into the corner from that morning. My wardrobe was a mess, and I had cups and bottles all around my room. Charger wires and headphones lingered around everywhere, greeting me with a mental punch to the gut. Like, 'hey, I know how much you hate tangled stuff, so have fun untying every loop'. _Haha, no._

I sighed loudly, tossed my bag in the corner and slumped myself across my bed. I groaned in happiness and shut my eyes, exhausted from the long day I'd had.

 _That man... the scars..._

I cringed. It was awful. Who'd do that to a person? Did the Joker do it? Did somebody else do it? Did _he_ do it?

I doubt I would've got any relevant results if I googled 'guy in purple pants and odd socks with a scar face'. Maybe the _I'm Feeling Lucky_ option might actually come in handy for once.

It was such a shame. I was surprised I didn't notice any stares or repulsed sounds from anybody on the bus. I was ignorant and stupid for avoiding to look at him, just because of my social awkwardness. Maybe he thought I knew about the scars and that I avoided looking because of that. I sighed. I felt so guilty and that wasn't the case. _Poor guy._

If I ever saw him again, I vowed to myself that I'd stare him right in the eyes and smile. I'd smile until my mouth hurt.

Then, sitting up, I pushed my thoughts of guilt and embarrassment aside as I put on my stereo- that sat on the side of my desk. Radiohead was on and I turned it up, finally lying on my back on my bed, with my hands behind my head and a tiny smile on my face.

If I ever saw him again, I vowed to ask his name. Heck, maybe I'd ask him for a coffee. I was intrigued by a strange figure, and his seemingly kind yet distant personality drew me in. And I wanted to know where he got those scars.

I whined and cringed.

This was how girls got abducted. Stupidity.

* * *

 _ **This was short, I knooow. But it's only the second chapter, right?**_

 _ **You and I both know we're all only here for the Joker. So expect more appearances ;)**_

 _ **And also, the character's name is Stella. Peace.**_


	3. Chapter 3: Ice Cream

**Chapter 3: Ice Cream**

Saturdays were bland and empty for me. The only thing I looked forward to was another episode of Pushing Daisies or Game of Thrones. Nothing much happened on Saturdays; my best friend, Cassidy, went to visit her boyfriend, my mom went out to God knows where, and any other acquaintance or friend I had went to parties, bars, or sleepovers (otherwise known as orgies). I would've stayed in the house if I wanted to- heck, I always did- but I'd ran out of ice cream. I always settled to watch some movie or series ready with a tub of Ben & Jerry's next to me. It was like a weird ritual or routine I followed, and I just felt empty without it.

Being the start of Spring, Gotham was unsurprisingly cold. The heat only really kicked in by mid July, and even then you'd be warmer wearing a coat. But no matter what time of year, you'd be safer to stay inside; away from the cold and away from the criminals. God knows who you'd bump into at night.

I just so happened to have left the house at _night_. I knew it was dangerous, and I knew it wasn't clever. The closest thing I had to pepper spray was a can of deodorant, so I carried that in my small satchel just to stay safe. And I always held my keys in my hands, sharp side up. I wore my toughest boots, and I had my platinum hair up in a small, tight bun. Anybody'd think I was ready for the apocalypse with the ways I'd prepared. But, no, I was just preparing to stupidly go out in Gotham in the middle of the night. I was prepared for someone to lunge out at me and rape me, or for someone to stab me. I was constantly worried. Scared.

I reached the corner store I had intended to visit. Small and rectangular, yet it lit up like a lighthouse. Neon signs, bright aisle lights, and two years prior's Christmas lights were _still_ up. I mentally sighed. I honestly think these people had just given up, and I could barely blame them.

I went in, and instantly shivered. All the fridges and freezers made the outside seem like a boiling desert. You'd never think the ice caps were melting with this store on ice cold for 24 hours all week (excluding Sundays).

Without bothering to look- since I knew my brands well- I picked up my tub of ice cream and got up to the cashier, ready to get this over and done with as fast as I could so I could go home.

The fat guy at the counter gurgled tiredly. "Five dollars."

 _Please?_ _Can I get a please?_ _No?_

Ignoring his ignorance, I put my hands in my bag to pull out my wallet. My bag only had the spray in it. I sucked my lip, checked my hoodie pockets. Empty. My jeans, nothing. _Shit. Great. Just fantastic._

I looked up at the clerk with worried eyes, silently begging for him to hear me out. "Dangit, listen I'm sorry, I-"

"No cash, no service." He spat, his lisp spraying saliva all over the counter, and I thanked every God I'd heard of that none of it hit me. _I've already showered today, thanks._

I heaved my chest impatiently and clicked my tongue. "Listen, I got money but it's at home. I am _not_ trekking back through the cold for another half hour tonight to get back home just to get a freaking five dollar bill. I can come up Monday morning and give it to you then, but _not_ tonight." My eyes darkened with impatience. This guy seemed plain rude anyway and I wasn't gonna lose to a fat, greasy, bald man with a saliva gleeking problem.

He leaned forward against the counter using his sausage like fingers and huffed. His breath smelt like smoke, alcohol, and something else repulsive and disgusting. "No cash. No. Service." He repeated, baring a sarcastic grin.

I sighed loudly and scratched the back of my neck. "I'm telling you I'll pay you back. I'm in debt to you, IOU, whatever- look- I am _not_ raising the risk of getting killed or raped higher than it already is, just to get a flimsy piece of paper. I will. Pay. You. Back." I gritted my teeth, leaning closer.

He leant forward too. "Get out, _bitch_."

Suddenly, a five dollar bill was slapped on the counter between two of us, and we stepped back. With surprised expressions, we stared at the dollar bill and then to the person standing behind me.

A tall man stood, with a dark purple coloured blazer and a black bandana wrapped around the bottom half of his face. His hair was tucked up into a beanie, but you could still see a wiry strand of brown hair poking out from the front. His eyes glared out familiarity, but I couldn't think with all of this tension in the air.

The bandana man spoke. "Now that's _no_ way to talk to a, uh, _lady_. Pal." You could tell he was smiling by how the black cloth stretched and how his eyes crinkled up.

Fat man spoke in protest, "This don't count, sir. It's not her money."

Bandana man sighed and picked up my tub of ice cream and his five dollar bill, held them both for a moment, then set them back down on the counter. "Okay, how's about _now_? It's, uh, _my_ ice cream and _my_ money." You could tell he was grinning again.

I timidly ducked my head in attempt to hide my smile of laughter. The fat clerk guy looked defeated, yet his eyes narrowed slyly. Stubbornly, he snatched the five dollar bill and put it in the cash register, before slamming it shut. "Have a nice evening." He glared at me, his stare threatening me.

Before any of the men could do or say anything, I took my tub of ice cream and made a bee line towards the door. As I got outside and was ready to make my way home, I stopped. That guy with the bandana, I didn't thank him. Also, guilt prodded and poked at me, I had to repay him somehow. So I patiently waited outside by the door until he came out.

And when he did, I nearly scared him half to death. He walked right out and as I stepped forward, he made a distressed grunting sound and took a single step back. "Jesus Christ-!"

 _Great start._

"Oh. Um, sorry." I hummed apologetically, giving us both space as I faced him. He had a plastic bag in his hand, filled with what I guessed was booze.

"You _know_ , you're really, uh... _small_ ," He said, looking me up and down, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Didn't _see_ ya there."

I stammered and nervously laughed. "Ah, sorry. Sorry. Um," I swallowed. "I wanted to say thanks- for the, um, ice cream... thing... back there..."

" _Riiight_."

"And, um... is there anyway I could repay... you?" I offered, tilting my lips to the side in question.

He chuckled. "Listen, _toots_ , it's five bucks. It, uh, _really_ don't matter much."

 _Toots_.

I narrowed my eyes in thought and I couldn't talk for a second. His voice, I recognised it. The way he held his body and his head. How his words stretched out... pulling you in... drowning you out... "Yeah... uh..." His speech. His speech I recognised. I raised a gestured hand. "Sorry, do I... know you?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment. We glanced at one another as tension balanced on a string. I was worried what might've happened, until his eyes creased with a smile. "Aw. _Hey_. I know you," He said. "You're, that, uh, _girl_ on the _bus_ , right?"

I smiled kindly. "Yeah, I am."

" _Wow_. Your hair looks _different_ all, ah..."

"Up?"

"Yeah. All _up_."

Silence again.

"So, where ya _headed_?" He casually asked, using his free hand to adjust his beanie.

I shrugged and bit the inside of my cheek. "Home, actually."

"You want me to, uh, _walk_ you there?" He normally asked, with no weird tone or creepiness behind it.

I scoffed with laugher. "I really shouldn't."

He chuckled. "Never know what kinda... _freaks_ might be lurking around-ah."

"Exactly," I agreed. "Which is why I kinda sorta really want to deny your offer," I said honestly, fiddling with my thumbs. "No offence."

"Please. If I _wanted_ to hurt ya, I'd, uh, already be _burying_ the body by now." I wasn't sure if he was joking to break the ice or if he was actually being serious, but my gut wanted things to be less awkward yet more dangerous for me, and my mouth acted out instead of my head.

"Okay. Sure. Walk me home." I smiled.

 _I'm going to die._

"Alright," He hummed. " _Lead_ the way." He extended a hand out for me to start walking.

With my keys still clenched between my fists, I reluctantly began walking. Bus guy walked alongside me, which made me feel much safer than if he were behind me. I had a weird feeling in my stomach, the obvious silence between us telling me I shouldn't have felt so safe than I was. I was letting a strange grown man walk alongside me in the middle of the night, for Christ's sake. Every alarm in my head rung and all the warning signs of murder, rape and fear flashed before my eyes. But his casual approach on the situation somehow calmed things, and reassured me that things would most likely turn out fine. That maybe, I'd be okay.

Feeling relaxed, I dared to ask, "Why've you got that bandana on around your mouth?" I knew it was because of the scars, I just wondered why he'd hidden them.

I saw him tense from the corner of my eye and his gaze looked downwards before he sighed, shaking himself off and looked at me. He shrugged cooly and yanked the bandana off, shoving it in the plastic bag. "Reasons."

His scars were on full show, and the occasional street lamp illuminated them so they were clearer to see. The second time around, they didn't repulse me as much. Of course, I did stare for quite a bit- anyone would've- I took in every bump and lump, every rough corner and smooth edge, wondering just how they'd gotten there in the first place.

I took a deep breath. "Those are some pretty gnarly scars." I commented obliviously.

He chuckled out loud and looked at me with a grin. " _You're_ just a, uh, _special_ little snowflake, aren't you?" His smirk lit up the bottomless black circles in his eyes and they seemed browner. I liked them that way.

"It's better than me hating them and running away, right?" I cracked a grin. "As long as you're not an asshole, those scars don't bother me in the slightest."

"Oh, _really_?" He rhetorically asked, smiling to himself. "You _know_ , they say your scars, uh, _define_ you."

"Isn't it your actions?" I pondered.

" _Actions_. Pfft. _All_ actions are just in the, uh, spur of the _moment_. Actions don't mean _jack_. You can tell a lot about a person by their, uh, _scars_ , toots," He said. He gestured with his hands aimlessly. "Scrapes on the _knees_ come from the back alleys. Slashes on the _wrists_ come from broken homes. Rakes down the back come from the _bedroom_."

"And a Glasgow grin?"

He paused, then smiled. "That's for _you_ to figure out."

I didn't bother asking. I didn't really need to know, anyway, no matter how much I wanted to. His business was his business. Not mine.

By the time I figured out the silence between us had lasted longer than I thought, I saw ourselves coming up to my street. We continued walking and then I stopped in front of my house, forcing a tight smile.

"Here's my stop..." I quietly said, curling my toes inside my boots.

He stared up at my house, focusing on one window in particular. " _That_ your room?" He pointed up to it, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." I openly admitted, wishing that I hadn't. _Stupid idiot._

Both of us exchanged stares and he sighed. " _So_. What's your, uh, _name_ , sweet cheeks?"

 _Right. Names. Hadn't mentioned that_.

I stuck out my hand awkwardly, my navy painted nails standing out against my pale skin. "I'm Stella."

The guy paused for a moment, nibbling on his lip. His eyebrows furrowed nervously in thought then his hand met mine in a hand shake. "You can just call me J for _now_."

"J?" I asked.

"Did I stutter?"

I shrugged his comment off with a small chuckle. "Whatever. See you around, if I'm unlucky enough." I joked.

"Gee, uh, _thanks_." J sarcastically grinned, as our hands finally parted after what felt like eternity; I half turned and walked up to my door.

I paused. "Thanks for walking me home. I legit hope I'll see you again."

"You _still_ catch the bus?"

"3pm every weekday but Tuesday."

He half smiled. "See ya around, _Stella_." And with that, he began walking down the street, slipping out of view.

I got in the house, and sighed stressfully, leaning against the front door. I was so _stupid_. He was a stranger, not a friend. For all I knew, he was a murdering psychopath. Or... not, and perhaps I was just a really judgemental person.

I got into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and sat the half melted ice cream inside. Shutting the fridge door, I leant my head against it.

What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

 _ **Honestly, the feedback I got from you guys in chapter one was unbelievable. Barely minutes after I'd uploaded it, I already had positive feedbacks. It means the world to me and really gave me the encouragement I needed to write frequently again! I really can't wait to show you guys the rest of this story! I hope you like what I've got in store**_ _ **.**_


	4. Chapter 4: Look At The Roses

**Chapter 4: Look At The Roses**

My best and possibly only friend, Cassidy, was a traveller. Every holiday she'd be going to Spain or Australia, sometimes Turkey and then Italy; which all blessed her with the perfect natural tan. Cassidy was practically flawless, with dark brown hair always bunched up into a messy bun, eyes as emerald as evergreens, and rose coloured lips. She had two beauty marks on her face, one right under the outer corner of her eye and a classic Monroe style mark sat above the side of her mouth. She deserved the two beauty marks. She was gorgeous. And she was popular, which always raised the question of why I wasn't popular too- but sometimes I was glad. I wasn't much of a socialite, and I couldn't make easy, cool conversation enough. That guy... J, he was lucky I'd spoken properly to him for so long.

 _Strange_.

With elbows leant on the small round table of the coffee shop, Cassidy continued her story, waving her left hand around while her right held her phone. She paused to drink her iced latte. "-So then she was all like, 'Uh, you know she likes you, right?' which was damn hilarious 'cause he was all, 'Uh, I hope so, she's my girlfriend' and then it was just like, she looked like she was roundhouse kicked in the face! It was so funny!" Cassie laughed, beaming her pearly whites. I smiled back in silent laughter. She sighed happily. "What did you get up to on the weekend?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat, I kicked my art portfolio closer to my left leg under the table. I took a sip of my coffee and I simply hummed. "Well..."

"Let me guess. You stayed indoors all day watching that series of yours. What was it... that, uh, Game of Hunger? No, wait, Hunger Games." She clicked her fingers, trying to recall the name.

"Game of Thrones." I said.

"Same thing."

I bit my lip. "Well actually, uh... I met somebody..." _No, no, no, no, don't tell her, do not tell her!_

"No way!" Cassidy grinned, admiring her matte peach manicured nails. "A guy? Was he cute?"

"Uh..." I thought about it for a moment. He was possibly- what- twenty three? Twenty five, maybe? I couldn't say he was 'cute'. And especially not with two massive scars stuck on his face- not to say he was ugly. He was more on the handsome side, but even then it felt... naughty to say so. I'd crushed on numerous fictional characters and celebrities old enough to potentially be my dad, but talking about a real, live person... felt out of place.

Cassidy raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow. "Hello, Stell?"

"Uh... he was more... good looking than cute..." I awkwardly replied, tapping my fingers on the table.

"Ugh, shut _up_. It's the same thing," She smirked. "How old was he?"

My stomach dropped and I refused to make eye contact with her. Oh my God. I couldn't tell her I met a fully grown man sat next to me on the bus!

"Dunno. Didn't ask." I shrugged.

"Name?"

"Um... no?"

"Uh, _yes_. Tell me. I wanna see if I can find him on Facebook."

My eyes widened. "No! I mean..." I sat back and shrunk into my seat. "I don't particularly... know that either..."

She glared at me. "You've gotta be kidding me. Stella, whoever you met, giving you unspecific info, could just very well be a pedophile or a rapist, y'know."

"I dunno... it's not like that..."

"Really? Did you walk together?"

"Um... at one point..."

"What time?"

I sucked my lip and forgot that I had to keep secrets. "I dunno, after midnight."

Cassidy jumped out of her seat in shock, slamming her hands on the table. " _Stella_!" She shrieked.

I urged her to lower her tone, "Shh! It's not like that!"

"Are you _serious_?! You just let some stranger walk with you in the middle of the night? In this Godforsaken city of all places?!"

"We met before."

"Where? The back alley?!" She sarcastically asked.

"No!"

"Then where?!"

"I can't-"

We both stopped bickering when Cassidy's phone rang. She glanced at it and glared at me, before standing up to take the call in the bathroom, leaving me alone at our table.

I was so stupid. Cassidy actually started to make sense, though. A grown man, came out of nowhere, ready to fuck up my life- probably. Was our meeting Saturday night a stop amidst a stalking spree or pure coincidence? I actually started to question things- like why the hell did I let him walk me home? He knows where I live now!

The quiet murmuring of the coffee shop blurred out a lot of things, but not the fact of who walked in.

Two guys, all big and bulky, wearing college football jock jackets with our college's logo on it, strode in the coffee shop. I forgot their names, but God, I hated them. They were notorious for being stupid. I acted as though I didn't see them, and cringed as I turned my head away.

But just to my luck, they caused a fuss, pushing customers out of their way, and made it to where I was sat.

"Well," The blonde haired one cooed. "If it ain't Cassie's freak friend."

"Gee," I huffed sarcastically. "Thanks guys."

The black haired one next to him scoffed. "Listen, you seen her?"

"Cassidy?" I asked.

"Yeah," Blonde said, "Some... stuff went down between her and my girlfriend and I was wonderin' where she is, y'know..."

"And teach her a lesson." Black haired jock finished.

 _How cute. They finish eachother's sentences._

I shrugged, pursing my lips. "I, uh... saw her earlier but she wasn't with me. She went to the library," I lied. "Her parents grounded her from using her laptop."

Blondie scoffed. "For what? Bitching 'bout my woman, probably."

I stood up and slung my bag over my back, picking up my portfolio. "Beats me," I said, "Probably for screwing your mom last night," I gave the two dummies a sarcastic grin and picked up my paper cup full of cold coffee and turned away from the two. "Good day."

They didn't follow me, but I knew they were getting out. Cassidy was still in the toilets and I gave her a warning text;

 _Sent at: 4:57pm_  
J _ust left Starbucks, going home. Two jerks are looking for you so i sent them to the library,_ _sorry to ditchhh_

It was a Tuesday afternoon after school hours. I didn't catch the bus on Tuesdays because me and Cassidy met up in that Starbucks to talk about whatever- be it her boyfriend, economic disaster or sexist assholes at our school who live to degrade women. I normally complained about the latter.

Since I'd abandoned my poor, dear friend, I decided a walk around the local flower gardens would clear my head, maybe give me inspiration.

I loved the flower gardens. I took up a hobby in flower pressing, and it really sucked how I couldn't pick any of these flowers- and they were all the most beautiful.

I sat on a bench opposite some red rose bushes and sighed, clutching my art portfolio closer to my lap. It was fairly sunny, but the air still had a cold bite to it. I basked in the nice weather while it lasted, inhaling the fresh, natural scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. I was lucky enough to avoid allergies during Spring, and so I liked the scent of things most people started sneezing at.

There sat a weight next to me. The bench slightly creaked at the sudden contact and I shuffled over politely to give whoever sat there some space.

But much to my horror, it was somebody I already knew.

"I, uh, _much_ prefer _red_ roses to _white_. Don't you?"

Immediately at the familiar voice and smell and face and presence, I widened my eyes and gasped a little.

"No," I stammered, turning my head away to avoid looking at the man with the scars hiding behind the black bandana. "I like the white better."

He chuckled quietly to himself as he suddenly changed the subject. "A _lovely_ surprise bumping into you here."

I stubbornly rejected his comment. "No, it's not," I hissed. "You're following me, aren't you?" To avoid causing a scene, I kept my head looking straight forward discreetly and lowered my voice to a mumble.

"Why would you _say_ such a, uh, _thing_?" He asked, smacking his lips. " _Toots_."

The pet name lingered on his tongue and I hated the way I loved its sound. " _Please_. What would a guy like you be doing strolling around flowers?" I calmly asked.

He fell silent, but then I could tell he was smirking. "Fair point."

I slightly turned my head. "Have you been stalking me?"

He hummed for a while. "Mm... _no_. Well. I, uh, _saw_ you walk out that coffee shop just then. So I tried to, uh, catch _up_. Couldn't find the right _time_ to say _hey_."

"Well, hey." I coldly said, gritting my back teeth in frustration. I wasn't gonna tolerate some pervert freak following me around.

He laughed, a strange, lunatic laugh. "What's a _feisty_ little spitfire like you, uh, _doing_ around pretty _pink_ flowers then, hm?" Glasgow grin guy asked me, playing with his thumbs.

I scoffed, but honestly replied, "Admiring nature."

"Can I _sit_ here and admire, uh, _nature_ , too?"

"Not until you tell me who you are and what you want with me."

An awkward silence aired between us. A mother and her child walked past, and she hurried as she saw bandana man's state, and gave me a sorry glance. I ignored her obliviousness.

My 'friend' began talking as soon as she left. "I _told_ ya, sweets. Just call me J."

"I don't want to call you J, I want to call you by your _name_." I argued, giving him a sullen glare, my lips pursed.

He looked at me and giggled. " _Angry_ looks and daggers don't-ah, _tip_ me over, doll," He teased at me, smacking his lips. "Pleases and thankyous, _however_ , are _really_ satisfying."

I sighed sadly with panic. "Stop it," I pleaded. "I'm freaking out, for Christ's sakes. If you just tell me who you are I swear I won't report you, I just want you to leave me alone."

"Leave you _alone_? Dang, I was gonna ask for your _number_ , too."

My breath hitched tightly. " _Stop_ it. This isn't funny."

"No, I was being _serious_."

I tilted my head to stare at him and with eyes that threatened to gloss over with tears of stress and worry, I blinked them back. "Who _are_ you?"

He sighed and hopefully gave in, finally leaning back against the bench in relaxation. "Jack." He popped out.

 _What? Just like that? After all the hostility and games?_

He was most likely lying. _There was no way..._

I sighed in relief and satisfaction. I was _finally_ _getting somewhere_. "Jack what?"

" _Don't_ push it."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three in five months."

 _Not much older, I guess._

"What do you do for a living?"

"None of your _damn_ business," Jack's bandana creased as he grinned underneath it. "But I _don't_ stalk pretty girls, _that's_ for sure. This is _all_ , uh, pretty _new_ for me."

"Don't try and flatter me." I scoffed.

"Don't try and flatter _yourself_."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. _The fucking cheek on him._

Still, I questioned, "Why would you need my number?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. I, uh, _might_ wanna hang _out_ with you sometime."

"Like a date rape or a date-date?" I furrowed my brows.

He turned to me. "Date _rape_? Is _that_ what they call it nowadays?" He smacked his lips. "When I say hang out, I mean _hang out._ Like, uh, _this_. Sitting with each other. _Talking_ about ourselves."

"Isn't that a date?"

"Isn't that therapy?" He smirked.

I blinked. That was astonishing. He was strangely astonishing. I went and stood. "Whatever, I-"

" _Sit_ -" He growled quietly, clenching his fists. "Down."

Scared and a little freaked out, I obeyed, and sat with a quiet, shaky sigh.

"Sorry." He said.

"No you're not."

"No, I _am_ ," He clicked his tongue. "I don't say _sorry_ much. Uh, at _all_. So when I say sorry, _take_ it."

I stayed silent.

He continued. "How's about we meet up _tomorrow_ here at six when your head's all _cleared_ and, uh, _not_ in a panicked _frenzy_ of _glares_ and scowls?" He offered. "See how you're feeling _then_."

"Can I bring a tazer?"

"Bring a fucking _gun_ if you wanna. I'm coming over with my pockets _empty_."

I thought about the proposition for a moment, then sighed, sticking out my hand to him. "Fine. Deal."

He shook it once, gripping it tight. "Deal."

I took a moment to observe how horribly perfect our hands fit together, like two perfect blocks in a game of Tetris. I was ashamed to think how cliché it all was, how warm his large, strong hands were compared to my cold, small, fragile ones. How pale my hands were to his sun kissed skin. So many things were different, yet we fit together as though we were one in the same.

Scary.

I saw his bandana shuffle as he smiled mockingly underneath. He gave my hand a small, secret squeeze. "You got, uh, _cold_ hands, considering you _blush_ a lot."

It was then I felt my cheeks turn hot, and he was right, I was blushing. I stammered in embarrassment and gently pulled my hand away from his, causing his hand to limply drop to his lap.

"Sorry my hand holding doesn't suit to your needs." I mumbled under my breath and rolled my eyes, yet I was fully aware he heard me. He giggled madly a little, and I had to persuade myself that he wasn't an absolute basket case. This was ridiculous. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

"Also," I added, and he sighed loudly, impatiently. I could tell what he was thinking; hasn't she said enough? "Don't you even _dare_ think of coming around by my house. Or I swear to God I will-"

"Jesus, calm _down_ , sweet cheeks. I followed you from a _coffee_ shop. All you're doing is, uh, putting _ideas_ in my head," He teased, but I widened my eyes in panic. I looked down away from him and frowned, but he somehow lightened the mood. "Aw, c'mon. I'm only _kidding_."

I let out a shuddered sigh. "Well, it's not funny."

" _All_ the best people _laugh_ , Stella."

"Only when it's necessary," He shifted his gaze to my hands, which fumbled over one another with unease and nervousness. He raised his eyebrows and I spoke. "And to tell you the truth, I'm terrified."

Silence fell and he finally stood, lifting the weight of paranoia off my shoulders. I looked up at him and into his eyes, trying to will his thoughts out of his mind for me to hear. So I could've understood his motives. So I could understand _him_ , as the mysterious entity he remained in my mind, some stranger that just waltzed into my life, an unexplainable theory of a personality. I needed to know and the irritation of not knowing clawed at my mind like a disease. I knew nothing about him and that scared me greatly.

"Want me, to uh, _walk_ you home?" He asked, extending a hand out.

I glared at it and crossed my eyebrows stubbornly. "No."

He seemed to find amusement from my reluctance and his cheeks broadened with a smile, and he turned on his heel. "Until _tomorrow_ , darlin'." He mused, and with a single wave of his hand he put both in his pocket again and continued to walk down the gravelly path, away from me, away from whatever mess he'd created, turning his back on the chaos he'd catalysed in my head.

My mind was a mess. I felt like an untidied room, my brain a cluttered desk, and I couldn't find the right emotion to feel at the time. Strangers walked past me, completely oblivious to the catastrophe I'd witnessed, stepping over the hole I'd dug deeper for myself.

It was just a friendly talk at first. Decent interaction. Politeness. And now I was getting stalked. That's what I get for being nice.

Me and my fat mouth.


	5. Chapter 5: Firecracker

**Chapter 5: Firecracker**

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I stared at the fork between my fingers, tapping the rim of my full plate. Ten minutes and I hadn't touched a crumb. The bacon seemed to glare at me and the fries looked like they were scowling. I was hungry yet I couldn't bring myself to eat, and that meant I was drinking twice as much water. And even that didn't fill me up enough.

It was because I was worried. Or stressed, or paranoid. If the shoe fits, I felt as though everything were grim. It was raining. It was dark. And I was so strained by fear.

It was 5:50.

I gulped. Ten more minutes.

I could've just, y'know, not go. Sure, the guy knew where I lived and he could've easily waltzed up to the front door and stuck a bullet in my face, but there was a possibility, I suppose. My mom would've gone nuts if she found out I let some stranger know where we live. She had no idea I'd ever met anybody on the bus that day. She wasn't going to, either.

Speak of the devil, she just so happened to walk into the room, toffee hair up in a ponytail and steel grey eyes stern on my plate. She stopped walking and sighed. "You gonna eat that?" She asked, carelessly pointing a hand at the cold bacon and hard fries.

I glanced at her, then back at the plate, heaving out a shallow breath. "I'm trying to."

She huffed in sarcastic laughter and turned the radio on. "Well, good luck with that. Seeing as you're trying to will it into your mouth by telekinesis or something, whatever."

I cracked a little grin. As miserable as she was, we both shared the same attitude of cocky sarcasm.

Not willingly listening to the radio, it crackled on. "This morning, officers of the GCPD found a dead body in a warehouse a mile off the Sionis Steel Mill. The body was found with a blunt pencil through its skull and a joker card on the desk, and police and investigators are stating that without a doubt, this is the work of the Joker. Since his recent terrorist attack in Gotham's bank, police have not yet traced him and he is still on the loose. More on this as it progresses."

I grimaced. A _pencil_? What a sick bastard. I couldn't imagine it was much of a quick death for the poor guy.

My mom sighed heavily, turning on the sink taps. "A pencil through the guy's head, huh? What kinda freak've you gotta be to do that?" She rhetorically asked, shaking her head.

I stared ahead blandly, still refusing to eat my food. I thought about it for a while. Him. The Joker, I mean. He suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I had surely never heard of a villain like him before, and all of a sudden he was wreaking chaos on the streets. It was like he'd generated himself into the universe out of nowhere. It really irritated me how nobody at the college mentioned anything, not even the teachers, so I had beforehand decided to do my own research and Googled him.

I just quickly flicked through a few forums and news reports, and it said he escaped Arkham Asylum For The Critically Insane. 'Critically insane' was an understatement, this weirdo must've been a right nut job to stick a pencil through someone's head. It was also strange and unexplainable that he had no other known aliases. No real name, print matches, anything. The Joker had truly and literally appeared from nowhere.

Everything about him and Jack seemed fairly... coincidental. It was strange how the day the Joker invaded Gotham bank, I had met Jack right after it apparently happened. But that raised an argument. Jack could've been on the bus _whilst_ the invasion happened. I knew nothing about the Joker, I barely even knew what he looked like, except that he wore stupid looking facepaint and a purple coat. The thought of not knowing enough scared me- like what if I ran into him?- but I was confident I could spot a loon like him from a mile away. Especially if he was wielding a machine gun and wearing stupid face paint.

"Stella," My mom called me out of my thoughts, drying the washed bowls up with a towel. "It's five to six. Didn't you say you had to be somewhere?"

"Oh," I gulped, thinking of an excuse. "Yeah. Cassidy wanted my notes from English, she needs to do work tonight."

Mom wordlessly nodded, not really bothering to question my answer. "I suppose you're not eating that, then."

I looked at the plate as I stood. I furrowed my eyebrows and forced an embarrassed laugh. "Oh... uh, no... sorry." I tried to smile innocently but she rolled her eyes, taking the full plate and emptying it into the bin.

"Whatever. Don't get killed."

I raised my eyebrows and turned around to leave the room. _How charming._

I sat on the bottom step of the stairs and fumbled my feet into my sneakers, before grabbing my keys from the hook beside the door and holding them tight in my fist, sharp side up. I quickly slinked out of the door and into the night, barely surprised at how dark it already was. It was raining too, so I put the hood of my hoodie over my head, inwardly groaning at the rain drops that had managed to slink down the back of my shirt beforehand.

I jogged to the nearest bus stop, wanting to get out of the rain as soon as possible. I didn't have to wait for long, but I became paranoid as I realised that this was the six o' clock bus and I was already running late. I paid the fee and thanked the driver, before sitting on a random seat; the bus was empty. It was horrible. I knew it was empty, and I knew I was safe. But I had a lurking feeling, a hunch that _he_ was going to just pop up and tap me on the back, with his _tootses_ and his s _weets_ , and all the other sly pet names he called me. I was scared. I wanted to stay on this bus all night, but I was already scared of being late, not knowing what the hell he had in store for me.

Not before long, the bus came to a grinding halt and I could already see it. The sign, lit up by three lights that attached to it, reading 'Flower Gardens' in curly blue, faded writing.

That was my stop.

Feeling weak in the knees, I stood, quickly thanking the driver and got off, stuck in the same spot for a few seconds. The bus drove off and abandoned me, and I mentally begged for it to come back and get me. But it was too late.

Keys in one hand and my phone (with the torch light on) in the other, I ventured past the sign and into the deserted flower gardens. It wasn't unusual to see Gotham so empty at this time, especially it being just the start of cold Spring and of course- this was a dodgy city. Murderers and rapists around every corner. Only I would be mad enough to come out at this time of night.

The flower gardens had no lights for the night, which confused me. The flowers were well kept and so beautiful, and they just assumed that they'd never have night visitors? No couples strolling at night? I suppose it wasn't really my call, and so the thought was easily discarded to the back of my mind, soon dissolving and drowning under the panic and fear that haunted me. Stupidly enough, I was scared of the dark. The fear of the unknown. The torch light of my phone wasn't all that bright anyway, and it gave things quite an eerie glow, making me more scared than I already was. I imagined him, his scarred face glowed up like something from a nightmare.

It wasn't as dark as my mind and sight had convinced me it was, as up ahead, on the same exact bench from yesterday, in the same exact spot, sat the silhouette of the one man that had now struck fear into me. I knew it was him just by the way he sat, even though I couldn't see his face. The way he hunched over, hands in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs. Heck, I could even hear him mumbling. It was him, alright.

I turned off my phone light and the sudden action caused him to lift his head up and look at me. I swallowed hard. I couldn't see his face so I had no idea what expression he bore. I heaved a shaky sigh and stepped forward slowly, and as I neared he stood. My stomach churned as he did and I honestly wished I'd fallen into a coma right then and there, anything to escape this moment.

I stopped when we were about a foot or two apart and I found myself having to look up at him. He was rather tall, now that I had a proper look. I managed to see the corners of his face thanks to the moonlight, allowing me to see one eye which was surrounded with darkness and the edge of his nose, which looked very pale. I couldn't see his mouth, and his scars seemed to drown into the darkness of the evening.

"You're late." He said sternly, and I figured out he was furrowing his eyebrows crossly.

I mumbled a sore apology. "Sorry. I got a bus here."

He hummed in response and my breaths quickened in fear and panic. "Did you, uh, _change_ your mind?"

"About what?" I stuttered.

He tutted. "To stay in _contact_. Like my therapy outside _actual_ therapy-"

"Why would you need therapy, Jack?" I asked, squinting my eyes suspiciously. Ah, he slipped. His eye widened just a little and his pupil dilated, also he tensed. "Do you have a problem?" I questioned, feeling a sudden braveness wash over me as I'd found out more about the man I feared and I wasn't even asking for answers. "Y'know... with your head?"

"That needn't _concern_ you, sweet cheeks." He eventually poured out, his voice as smooth as silk.

"Well, I _am_ concerned, and if we're actually going to do this- which I am not very keen on the idea of- I need to know who you are and how knee-deep in shit I'm going to get for it." I said, crossing my arms, keys still in hand.

I could've been imagining his rage but I swore he growled. He mimicked my stance and folded his arms, but it seemed much more intimidating than I. "As long as you keep that pretty little _mouth_ of yours _shut_ , you needn't concern about _that_ , either."

I clenched the keys tighter in my fist. "And what're you going to do if I don't?" I challenged, leaning closer. " _Kill_ me?"

Tension built in the air and by the feeling of it, he smirked darkly and I was surprised my bravery'd lasted this long.

"I'd make ya _smile_."

That struck a cord of confusion in my fuzzy brain. What the hell did that mean?

He continued. "Now, uh, you and I both know that if you continue this-ah, _stubbornness_ ," He smacked his lips, presumably licking the corners of his mouth. "We're gonna have a little _problem_."

"Is it wrong to want answers?"

"Curiosity _killed_ the cat, Stella. Stell- _uh,_ " He giggled to himself and mumbled my name a few times, getting used to the sound of it, I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion- now he _did_ seem like the type of guy who needed therapy. "All I'm asking for is a couple-ah _digits_. Then you'll _never_ have to see _my_ ugly mug every afternoon. Wouldn't _that_ be neat?"

I didn't want to think about it for a long time- I shouldn't have been able to think about it a long time- but he was right, I was a curious little cat. What better way of finding out how much trouble I'd get into than walking straight into it? Of course, the logical side of me was blaring a bright red alarm. It was situations like this that would've gotten me killed.

"I'm a, uh, man of my _word_ -ah."

If his promise was true, I'd have given it to him right then and there.

But I was scared, and I shook my head, stepping back. "No... no." I said finally, clutching my keys ready.

"What?" He spat out, following my every step. His eyebrows crossed and his eyes lit up with what I was pretty sure was rage. " _No_?"

"I don't know you," I said, stepping back once more but finding my attempts were futile when I felt my back against a tall map board. "I'm not going to."

"Oh," He hummed, his voice suddenly low and gravelly, "I'll find that, uh, _one_ way or another, I'll get what I _want_ , doll," His voice quietened down as he neared me, and suddenly, his body pressed up against mine and his hand curled around the back of my neck. I hated so much that my body seemed to revel in the warmth as opposed to the freezing cold air, but I was so terrified that the warmth did nothing to ease the goosebumps that stood up all over my arms and neck. "Whether it _scares_ you or not- _ah_."

My first instinct was to scream, but I found that'd be a waste of breath and that kicking him in the groin and running was a much faster, straight to the point option. And I did so, I leant in close and brought my knee up high and hard against his crotch, causing him to step back and double over, and with that I elbowed him hard between his shoulder blades (some method of self defense and stunning I read somewhere on the internet).

As soon as I had the chance, I seized it and ran, sprinting past every flower bed and every pear tree. I heard him groan in pain and I looked back to see he'd only just started to chase after me but I dreaded when I realised he ran fast. I felt the worry form tears in my eyes which I ignored and wiped away as I beelined right towards the welcoming sign.

Suddenly I found my body collide with the ground as a hand wrapped around my ankle, pulling me down roughly. I yelped out in terror and pain as my attempts to get up were useless as this freak straddled my back, leaning to coo against my ear. "You're such a _lucky_ girl, Stell. You're lucky I promised _not_ to bring my, uh, _toys_ ," His voice was husky and his breath was warm, and to my surprise it smelt strangely of strong Vodka and mint, a scent I hadn't expected at all. I struggled against his grip, his crotch grinding harshly into the small of my back to ensure I stayed down. This guy was crazy and I needed to escape otherwise I wouldn't live to see the next day. I screamed out of frustration and he covered my mouth, and I gnawed and bit as much as I could but he didn't react. " _Wow_ , you're a _fighter_ , ain'tcha? Y'know, I used to _like_ stubborn girls at one point. Then I, uh, found them _annoying._ But _you_ ," His voice became light and comical yet that didn't make him less terrifying. "You're just a _sparky_ little _firecracker_ , huh?"

I let out muffled screams against his hand and bucked and flailed my body around as much as I could to get him to release.

"Sorry, what was that? I, uh, I can't _hear_ you," He laughed hysterically, pinning my wrists down above my head. I still flailed my legs and nearly started to cry even, but nothing seemed to work. I was close to praying to Jesus for help, dammit. "Y'know, kitten, sometimes I _like_ a challenge. I _like_ fighters. But frankly, _dearest_ , you are just doing my fuckin' _nut_ in!" He suddenly growled loudly and lifted my head by the grip of my hair, slamming my forehead back down on the ground. He released his hand from my mouth and I let out a cracked holler, whimpering weakly. I stayed still as the pain in my head was too much to bare.

No. I needed to get out of this. I wasn't gonna be slapped around or killed by some freak with a stupid stutter.

I remained still. Eventually, his grip on my wrists loosened and one of his hands even went up to pet my hair, gripping dominantly a little. He leaned his face close forward to my cheek and he chuckled. "I'd call you _crazy_ but that'd be a, uh, little _hypocritical_ , wouldn't you think?"

With my hands released, I cleverly thought and clenched the keys that still sat in my fist. Sharp end out. I extended my arm and with no hesitation, slammed the key right into his leg, and I was certain I'd actually _stabbed_ him and gone straight through the skin. He yelled out loudly in pain and hunched over and I took the chance to elbow him slap bang in the middle of the face. With him stunned again, I managed to shove him off of me and I stumbled to my feet, only to have his hand reach out for my leg; and with as much angry force as I could, I raised my leg and crunched three of his fingers directly under my heel. I felt and even heard two snaps and I was surprised and scared of how much force I had. He growled out again and cried out in pain, grabbing his hand as I sprinted again, holding my head in pain. I pulled back my hand and I felt warm blood trickle down my fingers.

Up ahead I saw a lit up bus stop, with a bus a couple feet away from the stop, just about to pull up. I looked behind me and saw him not too far behind. I gritted my teeth in panic and ran as hard and as fast as I could, and waved my hand out desperately for the bus to stop. To my overwhelming joy it pulled up and I even let out a thankful laugh as the doors opened and I got on. I turned back to see Jack and arm's width away and with his hand extended, but the bus doors shut and he pulled back his hand in time.

I watched him as he stepped into the light of the bus stop. With a maniacal grin spreading his scars wide apart, I saw him give me a subtle wave. I could nearly hear him laughing. But that wasn't what terrified me. My face dropped at the person I was looking at.

He wore a purple suit.

He wore face paint.

A bright, red grin right across his lips and scars.

He was the Joker.

* * *

 _ **So, she finally figured it out and put the pieces together. What do you think? Comment and whatnot, and don't hesitate to tell me if you see any writing errors or typos! :)**_


	6. Chapter 6: Open Curtains

**Chapter 6: Open Curtains**

I used to be labelled by my doctor as an insomniac. During my early teens, I'd experienced sleep paralysis much more than once and there were lots of times where I'd end up going to school without having a night's sleep beforehand. The sole cause of that was my phobia of drowning. I'd have constant dreams, reoccurring ones, where I was trapped in a glass tank, with hundreds of people watching me. Laughing at me. I was a circus act. Then one night the glass tank was an ocean. A deep, dark, vast ocean. The thought of the unknown endlessness of the earth terrified me. One night I woke with a panic attack.

This time, it was the Joker that gave me sleepless nights.

The thought of him daunted me. His tall, strong build; his grim face; his dark, eerie eyes; his smile... that same, hellish grin. Those damn scars.

After I'd gone home that night, I remembered my mom already being in bed. I was too scared of sleeping alone. I was too scared of being alone. I'd dragged my pillows and blanket outside of her door and slept sat against the wall. I was terrified of being alone.

I was too scared to sleep.

The morning after was rough. Here I was, sat in my psychology lesson with my eyes feeling like two hollow burnt holes in my skull. I sat at my own desk today. I got a few stares but I didn't dare tell a soul about what happened. I was too fearful of what'd he'd do if I said anything. I didn't call the police out of fear that I'd get more involved and in more trouble than I already was. I was most likely the only girl in Gotham with the slightest idea of the Joker's whereabouts. And he most likely knew about mine. He was probably tracking me right now.

"Stella?" Some kid who went to elementary whispered over to me from another desk. I turned my head towards him but my gaze shot straight through him, like he was transparent. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

My eyes stayed pried open wide. My mouth stayed in a still straight line and madly, I just nodded. I'd listened to his comment but I didn't know what to say. What could I say? ' _Sure, I'm doing great. By the way I just fended off the fucking Joker last night and ended up not sleeping a wink. How about you?_ '

His face turned blank, like he was... scared. Scared of _me_. I wasn't surprised, I scared myself. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I stared back at the board, trying to mindlessly absorb the information. Trying to distract myself.

Some girl in the front raised her hand. "What about insane people, miss? Like murderers?"

The teacher gladly answered, "Now that's a different topic, but an interesting one. Many say that..."

As she spoke, two boys behind me whispered.

"You heard on the news, right?"

"What?"

"About the guy who stuck a pencil through this guy's face."

 _Head_. It was the _head_.

Why was I defending his actions?

"Oh, yeah. The, uh... Joker, right? He escaped from the loony bin on Arkham Island, I think."

Oh God, he'd only just escaped from an _asylum_? Why was it me who had to be cursed to sit by him on that bus? I felt sick just hearing the name and I was certain I would've emptied up my already hollow stomach onto the table if I wasn't so... petrified. I was stiff. I barely moved.

The boys continued to whisper. "You seen the scars on his face?"

 _Yes_.

"Nah, what do you mean?"

"Christ, it's some real creepy shit. Look," He said, then cleared his throat loudly. "Uh, ma'am?"

She glanced at him, "Yes?'

"Can we see pictures of the Joker? Like his scars and stuff?"

My head shot up, feeling a bead of cold sweat leak down the side of my temple.

"Yeah," Some brunette girl agreed, "He's been on the news so much lately. I wanna know how he got them."

"They're so ugly." Another boy added.

I felt my stomach tighten and I felt light headed. I could still feel his grip on my wrists, his breath next to my ear, his weight on the small of my back... _please, no._

Everybody seemed to agree and the teacher tutted. "I honestly shouldn't, it's against school policy, but... what the hell." She mused and pulled up Google on the projector.

I shuffled in my seat and gripped my stomach. "No..." I whispered, barely a sound coming out. It was horrifying; she searched him up and his face appeared everywhere, all grinning maliciously at me. I saw the wave of his broken hand, his laugh, the skip in his step as he backed up into the lit bus stop, his entire face illuminating- all behind shut eyelids as I tried to regain breath.

I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. Everybody was in awe of this murderer and was laughing at his deformity and for some sick, sick, reason, I felt _sorry_ for the freak. I wasn't too familiar with his feelings or motives, but I could tell why he'd want some sort of sick 'revenge' on some people. Maybe that's why he dressed like a clown; people treated him like one. A total laughing stock. He was the one drowning in the glass tank in his dreams. If I said so myself, his scars weren't that ugly. Of course, they were obvious and it stood out like a patch of blood on a white sheet, but that didn't mean to say they looked... bad. Okay, so it wasn't normal. They looked awful and painful, but they weren't _ugly_. I was ashamed to think so, but only because I'd had my mind automatically set on Jack when I thought of his scars, and not the Joker. Jack was probably a fake persona anyway. This all showed how much of a fool I really was for trusting a stranger.

But seeing him, his face, his eyes... his deep, hollow stare... I felt physically sick.

No, really, I was going to vomit.

Slowly I stood, my cheeks puffing with air. The teacher noticed I'd done so and looked at me.

"Stella? Are you alright?" The teacher asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I need to... bathroom..." I drawled out as I quickly rushed towards the door, sprinting down the corridor. I ran into the nearest bathroom and burst into a stall, holding myself over the toilet ready to vomit but then it stopped. My stomach instantly settled and all I ended up doing was gagging and retching over the bowl like a total idiot, my eyes watering sorely. This was awful. This was unbearable. This was just like him, this was sadistic. I wanted to throw up to get it over with, I needed to let something out, to empty at least a drop of my tainted and traumatised soul- and my body wouldn't let me. Just like _him_. He'd be on the brink of giving you the ending you want then tear you straight away from it.

One night. One night and I already couldn't take it anymore.

I held myself over the toilet for a second and my vision blurred. I fell to my knees, to the floor and shoved my head in my hands. I just stuck a pathetic plaster to the cut on my head and I wore sleeves over my bruised wrists, almost as if I tried to convince myself it were all a dream. I wished it was just that. I thought of him. Jack- no, _Joker_ \- and how foolish and stupid I was to think that Jack was a genuinely sane, nice person- if he were a _real_ person. I'd dug myself far too deep to climb out now and it was all my fault. I shouldn't have waited to say thank you that night outside the store, I should've just headed home alone like he'd recommended I do.

Then all of a sudden, weakness and fear washed over me and I crunched my tired eyes into my palms, letting out quiet, sticky sobs. My throat filled up with a lump that I couldn't will away, it was like I was letting all of my stress and worry out through the tears in my eyes and God, it hurt.

I didn't know how to get out of this situation. I wasn't a suicidal person, but suicide really seemed like the only way out. I wouldn't be able to move out of Gotham without an excuse. Of course, I wasn't going to _actually_ kill myself because up until now, I'd like to have thought I was a fairly logical and steady minded person. I figured that the saying 'learn from your mistakes' was somewhat helpful in this situation. At least now I finally learnt the life lesson I was told when I first learnt how to walk; don't talk to strangers.

 _You're just a sparky little firecracker, huh?_

My chest shuddered as I sighed, wiping my wet eyes on the back of my hand. His voice and his laughs never stopped echoing throughout the hollow corners of my head. Sometimes it sounded so real that I had to look over my shoulder to check he wasn't actually there and taunting me. I could've sworn I felt his breath on my neck from time to time, but I'd turn to maybe see an open window or a door, letting in an innocent draft. My own imagination was scaring me as much as he did and I wondered if my paranoia had already turned me insane.

What scared me the most was this; I was going crazy and I wanted to talk to _him_ about it. What better person to talk to about insanity than the very man who gave it to you?

I rose weakly and stumbled over to the sinks, heavily leaning over it. I lifted my head and looked in the mirror, wiping my eyes again and rubbing them lethargically. They were bloodshot and puffy, and I looked as though all the colour pigment had drained from my body. Never mind seeing ghosts, I goddamn looked like one.

I refrained from crying out of stress again and decided to head back to the class, his voice ringing... wailing... laughing... _you're such a lucky girl, Stell._ I shivered at the very words. I wasn't lucky. I was cursed.

Slowly approaching the classroom door, I saw the teacher stood outside with my bag in her hand and a smile on her face. _Smile all you want, you and your Google search nearly made me pump my stomach up onto the desk._

"Here you go, Stella," She said, handing me my bag. I tried to smile in thanks but I was scared that my mouth would split open gruesomely and I'd end up with scars just as bad as his. "I'm awfully sorry. I hope you're feeling okay. Is everything alright?"

I huffed lightly, just quiet enough for her not to notice.

"Dandy."

She laughed lightly and smacked her lips, but not like him. He smacked his lips and they popped, intimidation slipping off of every curve in his mouth. "Well, I recommend you go home, maybe. Stay warm and take some medication. Okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

She smiled. "Alright then. I hope to see you in our next class if not tomorrow."

I nodded, but didn't answer. I didn't hang about once I decided I wanted to leave.

I got down to the office and I cringed in embarrassment when I saw my mom stood waiting for me. She didn't look very amused. "I had to get out of work because of you."

I scoffed and we both walked out of the door, heading towards the car. "Sorry I nearly vomited all over the psychology presentation, mom. Really, I should've controlled my sick stomach more because I _totally_ had willpower over it." I sarcastically drawled, opening the car door and sitting in shotgun.

Mom groaned and chuckled snobbishly as she started the car. "Well, _lucky_ for you, you've got the house to yourself. I'm going back into work as soon as I drop you off."

 _Lucky girl lucky girl you're such a lucky girl Stell you're such a lucky girl lucky girl lucky girl, Stell, you're such a lucky girl, Stell._

I shuddered at the words taunting me in my head, my fingers trembling. Mom sighed. "And you still haven't told me about your head."

I raised my eyebrows. "I told you. I bumped my head on the way down the stairs last night."

"On what, the invisible wall down the middle of it?" She teased, yet she was so serious.

 _Why so serious?_

"Stella, you look like you've been pummelled into the ground."

I snorted at the irony. I decided to keep quiet and watch the rain trickle down the window as we pulled up into the driveway of our house shortly after the drive.

My mom placed a hand on my knee and gave me a weak, feeble looking smile. "Kiddo. I love you, y'know," She said, blinking hard. "I know I'm a miserable old wretch and I'm not around to show it, but you mean the world to me. You're my kid."

I just accepted it. I said nothing, I just nodded and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I saw my mom sigh heavily in the driver's seat and she pulled the car back then drove off, out of sight.

I blinked rapidly, fighting back how watery my eyes became because of the dry, sharp air. I turned around and glanced at my home. Nice, square and petite. Big windows, red door. Orange bricks. Open curtains.

Open curtains.

My bedroom window, open curtains.

No... no, no, this wasn't right. I always kept my curtains shut. And there was no way mom had opened them- she left the house before I did this morning.

I felt my heart rate speed up and I had to force control of my breaths. He was here. Oh God, he was _here_. He was going to kill me because I saw his face. I saw his real face and I possibly knew his real name. He was going to make me regret ever stepping onto that godforsaken bus.

I shook my head. No, I swore I closed my curtains, I was so sure of it... but I was just worrying far too much. I sucked my bottom lip and walked up to my door, and tried to stick the keys in.

It was already open.

I looked around uneasily. I didn't see any unusual car, or anything out of place. Maybe mom came to the house after all during her lunch break and left the door open and skimmed around my room. Yup. That was the only logical explanation.

With bravery as my only willpower, I swung the door open and peered inside.

My house was spotless. No messy mud tracks or curled up carpets. I paced around my living room, seeing it left exactly identical as I had left it that morning. Heck, even the single grain of Rice Krispie I was too lazy to clean up was still in the same spot on the coffee table. The kitchen seemed fine, too. All of my unwashed mugs and plates still sat in the sink, stained with coffee and tea and food.

I crept upstairs and I froze and panicked when I heard a door creek closed. Immediately, keys in fist, sharp side out. I tip toed up the stairs, absolutely terrified, but the adrenaline fear pumped me with encouraged me to keep going. I told myself there was nobody there.

I was _fine_.

I crept towards the bathroom, the door half open. I hesitantly inched towards it and kicked the door open to see the bathroom empty and void of any man, monster or Joker. And to top it off, the window was open, which answered my question of why I heard a door slam. _Drafts_.

I even bothered to check my mom's room, which I rarely went in. And again, empty.

The last room to check was... my room. The open curtains. The slammed door. I was going to be fine. Every other time I'd spent home alone and got scared, it all ended fine and there were no freaks or serial killers or clown guys with split open mouths and a really sarcastic sense of humour around to scare me. And hey, sometimes hope did me good. I prayed it did me wonders now.

Creeping up to the door, I settled my hand on the handle for a long time, waiting for the door to swing open and for him to lunge at me, knife in hand. But no matter how long I stood there, not a creak was heard. I pushed the handle down and the door creaked open, making me cringe. I clenched my clammy palm around my keys and held my other fist in mid air, ready to defend myself. For all I could see, my room was empty. But there was still more of it to see. I stepped inside and held my breath in fear and damn, I was scared shitless. I glanced around my room and saw it... perfectly normal. But the curtains, the curtains irked me. I swore I'd shut them. The cream carpet remained spotless and freshly vacuumed, my bedsheets were neatly made to fit my bed snug, my wardrobe stood around the corner just like normal, and my desk was clear.

At least, it was this morning.

I saw something and I paced closer towards the desk, squeezing so hard on the keys that I was sure my hand would start bleeding.

I felt myself turn pale. I was cold and I stood stock still. I wasn't believing what I was seeing. I reached a trembling hand out to pick up what sat on my desk.

Much to my horror, I held between my fingers a joker card.

I heard a door open behind me.

 _I wasn't alone._

I swiftly turned to see a glimpse of purple climb out of my wardrobe but before I could process what I was seeing, they attacked me from behind and I doubled over, hoping I'd shrink down to nothing.

That was it. His cackles, his grip, his... smell. Like gunpowder and gasoline, a little bit of burning... like a blown out candle. If I wasn't being attacked by the monster, I was sure I'd be into that scent.

"Heya, _doll_!" He laughed hysterically, his arms having a death grip around my waist and arms. I screamed and struggled all I could, throwing myself around and trying to escape.

And fuck me, I dropped my keys. All hope drained from me.

I suddenly felt as though I couldn't breathe and I panicked. I suddenly went into that state of extreme retaliation and using his grip on me, I shifted my body toward the bookshelf, and both the Joker and I slapped straight into it, and I did it a few times before most of the books fell off and he'd lifted me up by my stomach. But I didn't stop. I screamed, turned my legs and kicked against the bookshelf, sending his back straight against the wall. Unfortunately I also hit my head and we both howled out in pain.

"Wow, you _sure_ -uh, did _miss_ me, huh, sweet cheeks? Ha- _hah_ \- I _sure_ missed you and your, uh," He paused and grunted as he tossed me over his shoulder and all I could do was yell and pound on his back with my fists. " _Wonderful_ company." He laughed insanely and all I did was scream and whimper as I kept hitting him.

"Stop it!" I yelled, my hands and legs getting sore from all the fighting and flailing. "Let me go, you son of a b-"

Before I could continue, he'd lifted me tightly and forcefully by my upper arms and slammed me back against the wall.

His eyes darkened dramatically and his voice deepened. "Now, _now_. Watch your _tongue_ ," He growled, his bared teeth a mere millimetre from my ear. I whimpered in fear and decided to stop fighting and do what I was told and see if I got any different reaction then. He might've liked the honey, not the vinegar. His breath tickled my cheek as he giggled. "Wouldn't wanna, uh, get _messy_ , now would we, _doll_?"

I didn't answer. My hands trembled and they were sore, my sleeves rolled up and the hand shaped bruises were obvious and they stood out, a bright purple against my pale, porcelain skin.

He looked at my wrists and tutted happily, almost in pride and admiration. "Mmm... _those_ look like they _hurt_."

"Th-they do." I stammered honestly, my heart beating so hard I could feel it against my rib cage.

The Joker brushed his nose up against my cheek and took a deep breath, as though inhaling my scent. I secretly took the opportunity to inhale his, my curiosity getting the best of me. I hated how it tickled when he exhaled, giving me goosebumps. I watched his every move with wide, scared eyes.

He hummed and his hands slid down my arms and around my tender wrists, pinning them above my head. He looked at them and squeezed a few points with his thumb softly, tilting his head as though inspecting. "Does _momma_ know?"

Hesitantly, I timidly shook my head.

He half smirked, "And anybody _else_?" He stretched out, sounding sweet and at the same time malicious. I knew the former was barely true.

I shook my head again.

He stretched out a full smile, his scars wrinkling under the paint. "Atta _girl_ ," He smacked his lips, the popping noise sounding sugary and for some reason, reminded me of lollipops. Like those Pucker Pops I used to have in middle school. "See, toots, _obedience_ is the _first_ step towards, uh, _trust_ ," He said, licking his teeth, which looked far more yellow than he did without this whole... attire. In fact, his teeth were always white... did he purposely make himself look ugly? These had to be fake covers. "And this, uh, _relationship-_ ah can go along a _lot_ smoother if you just _behave_."

I wanted to say something, to protest, but I didn't know what to say. I was petrified. I felt like he'd lash out at me at any moment, snapping my neck off my shoulders or twisting my back until it broke like a flimsy twig. Or even just, y'know, shove a pencil through my skull.

It wasn't much longer at all until I realised his thumb had been stroking the bruises on my right wrist. It was gentle, but I knew the gesture wasn't particularly friendly. It was more unnerving and ominous actually, as if he was a predator playing with his food. He hummed in thought and licked his lips, clicking his tongue crazily. "Anybody'd, uh, _think_ these here _bruises_ were from-ah, something _else_ ," He smirked slyly and winked, causing my stomach to knot up sickly. "If you _know_ what I _mean_."

I swallowed dryly. "I-I've been wearing sleeves, nobody's seen them." I said, hoping he wouldn't hit me or kill me right on the spot for talking. Did I need permission to talk? Would I have to do... things to earn my place? This was ridiculous. He was terrorising me in my own home, in my own room for that matter. I was being victimised. I felt so... so small. So worthless.

He chuckled. "But _I'd_ like to _see_ them. To _remind_ myself of my, uh, _marvellous_ handiwork," He grinned, tilting his head as he did. "I'm a little bit of an _artistic_ person. _You_ an artistic person? You're an _artsy_ person, aren'tcha? Those, uh, _paintings_ you got, yeah."

Even though he'd already answered his own question, I nodded.

"You _sign_ your work? With a, uh, special trademark _signature_?"

I slowly nodded once more.

He smirked. " _I_ got one. I like to make people _smile_. Right," He traced the corners of my mouth with a free hand, "From _ear_ to _ear_."

My breath hitched. Oh God. He was going to slice my face open. I whimpered and shook my head. "P-please, don't-"

He scoffed and tutted, squeezing my sore wrist and tapping my cheek hard with the hand on my face. " _Shush_ , shush, shush, _shh_ ," He hushed me, leaning his face into mine so closely I had to hold my breath out of shock. He grinned and his nose touched mine. "I won't kill ya _quite_ yet, sweets. I _like_ me some new _toys_. I _look after_ my new toys."

"New... toys...?" I squinted my eyes, wondering just how the little cogs turned in his sick, sick mind.

"Didn't I tell ya to _shut up_?" He barked, causing me to wince. He cleared his throat and clicked his tongue, licking his lips. "Like I, uh, _said_. I got a trademark _signature_. But _I've_ got a uh, _special_ one for you, sweet cheeks."

I could only wonder with panic what it was. Decapitation? Loss of limbs? Oh, the possibilities were endless.

" _Now_ ," He hummed, taking a small knife out of his pocket and poking the bottom of my chin with it. I panted heavily and panicked, losing my breath. "You gotta _promise_ to be, uh, a _good_ girl and stay nice and _still_."

I whimpered, my eyes welling up with tears, one or two dripping down my swollen cheeks. "Please..."

" _Promise_."

I shut my eyes sadly as a few more tears leaked through and I nodded in defeat. The Joker huffed and used the side of his hand to wipe my tears. " _No_ more of, uh, _this_ , now. I ain't your _momma_. I'm _not_ gonna wipe your _tears_ for ya." He said, poking my cheek with his knife.

I just whined sadly and got ready for whatever immense torture was in store for me now. I tried to place a happy memory in my thoughts to distract me from what was about to come, but it was useless. The fear was too much and it saddened me, I was probably going to look horrible and I had no excuse for anyone now. My life was practically over now. He was stealing it from me.

"Stay _still_ , doll. This'll only take a _minute_ ," He said, and I shut my eyes in fear. I didn't want to look. "So _enjoy_ it."

Everything fell silent and the knife still dug into my cheek, and I was wondering why it never moved. His other hand still had a strangely gentle yet firm grip on my wrist and his thumb stayed steady.

I was about to open my eyes until I felt a warmth near my neck and suddenly a certain spot on the upper right of my throat became tender and hot.

Not really processing what was exactly happening, my body involuntarily let out a tiny silent moan because apparently it felt good. Who'd have thought, moments before my death I'd be moaning. That was just _great_.

Then that certain patch on my skin was being pulled. Sucked... and then I felt teeth bare out against the spot and bite down, nibbling gently and delicately.

I fluttered my eyes open and I could've screamed at what I saw happening to me. The Joker or Jack or whoever the _freak_ was, had his mouth latched onto my neck like I was a fountain of youth, sucking and biting and licking in a way I'd never experienced before.

I tried to protest and pushed my free hand on his shoulder, but not too reluctantly as not to piss him off. "W-wait, no, what're you doing?" I stammered, suddenly aware that the same guy who seemed to want to kill me was now kissing my neck.

He pulled back and sighed a little, with an unamused look on his face. "Leaving my _mark_."

"N-no, please-" I begged but I got cut off as my lungs heaved out a light sigh of pleasure. I felt my cheeks burn red as I urged myself to stop but I had no control over my body and I was making a fool out of myself. _Stop moaning, no, no, no, no, no!_

He smirked against my neck and tugged on the skin with his teeth. He let it go, but kept his contact close. "Your _mouth_ says _no_ but your _body_ says _yes_ ," He chuckled, making me feel totally embarrassed. "I _did_ say to _enjoy_ it, I don't-ah, _blame_ you," He mumbled, sending vibrations through my throat. "Sounds like you're having the _time_ of your _life_."

I didn't want to admit it. Not to him, or to myself. I liked it. The pleasure was nice. It was just him that put me off. "Stop," I pushed his shoulder a little more, making sure he knew I wasn't enjoying the fact that it was _his_ mouth on _me_ , and that I still didn't really want it. "Please." I begged, but of course he didn't listen. I just endured it and willed it to be over.

And thankfully, it was; he pulled his mouth away and grazed the mark with his tongue, before leveling himself back to normal and towering above me again. My eyes ached with tears and I wanted nothing more than for him to go away and leave me alone. " _There_ ," He smacked his lips. "A _lovely_ little _something_ to _remember_ me by. After all," He chuckled. "I like to _claim_ what's _mine_. Mark my, uh, _territory_."

I choked out a sob.

"I hate you."

"I _hate_ me too," He grinned and suddenly he totally detached himself away from me, as though he'd never been there at all. I instantly sunk to my knees and onto the floor, heaving and shaking with sobs and gasps. "It's been _swell_ , uh... _toots_. Nice _house_ , nice _company_ ," He devoured my form with his gaze. " _Lovely_ host. Until _next_ time, _sweets_. _I'll_ see myself out," He giggled crazily. He went to turn out the door but he stopped and turned, sucking his bottom lip at me. "Let's keep _this_ , uh, our little _secret_. Shall we?"

I widened my eyes in frustration and horror as he accepted my silent answer and his laughs continued to echo as he skipped down the hallway, his knife twirling merrily in his hand.

A moment later and the hums subsided, then the front door slammed shut. As soon as it did, I yelled out shortly in between cries and sobs, left alone on the floor to rot and cry in shame.

* * *

 _ **So, this was that chapter. I hope you like it and I hope the Joker isn't acting too OOC! Of course for the story's purpose he'll have to unravel sooner or later, but I'll be sure to do it slowly and not straight away and suddenly. So why'd you think he left that 'mark' on Stella? Comment and of course feel free to tell me if you spot any typos or writing errors.**_ **:)**

 _ **Tbh I just suck at writing intimidating people fml**_


	7. Chapter 7: Turtleneck Sweater

**Chapter 7: Turtleneck Sweater**

I hated turtleneck sweaters. I'd only ever worn one once, and that was on a skiing trip in high school. I hated it. It was scratchy and all the seams stuck into my skin. I swore to myself I'd never wear one again.

And here I was, buying several.

Thankfully Cassidy was with me and she'd thought I just came out to buy regular clothes. She was too busy picking out shirts and shoes to notice what I was buying, and all she did was talk about her day with her beloved boyfriend, Alex.

She flicked through a rack of black shirts all in different sizes and popped her pink lips, making me cringe in memory of how the Joker smacked his lips. "I mean, he got me flowers. It wasn't even anybody's birthday or any holiday and he just gave me white roses. Isn't that nice?"

I picked out a cream baggy knitted jumper with a wide fold over neck and I actually thought perhaps these sweaters weren't so bad. They looked nice. I tried to ignore the mention of white roses and cracked a small smile, brushing my hair over the side of my marred neck. "That's so great of him, Cass."

She giggled, tossing her brunette hair in content and picking out a black tee that seemed to fit. "I know. He's such a sweetheart," She hummed happily, stepping to move out the way of a passing person. She admired a dark plum crop top and wondered if it'd go with the long skirt she chose. She was going on holiday to Spain soon over Easter break and she always picked out the prettiest clothes. "Do you think this'll go with my skirt?" She asked me, holding it up.

I chose out a long sleeved top and swung it over my arm before looking at what she was trying to show me. I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, it looks great."

She sighed and chuckled. "'Great'. Why is everything just 'great', Stell? You okay?" She asked.

I nodded.

A moment passed and she furrowed her eyebrows. "I heard from somebody in your psych class that you threw up a few days ago. How you feeling?"

I swallowed nervously and awkwardly shifted my gaze around, pretending as though everything were fine. "Oh, I didn't throw up. I nearly did, but I just... I went home," I admitted quietly, harsh memories giving me a throbbing headache. I pulled my hair over my neck, the hickey feeling sensitive and still even a little sore. He really had left a pretty swell mark. "I'm okay now. I guess it was the stress, maybe." I shrugged, putting a sweater back to swap it with a nicer one.

Cassidy raised an eyebrow and squinted her eyes. "Why are you buying so many sweaters?"

I shuffled my tongue in my mouth and awkwardly stammered. I was buying the sweaters for the ugly hickey on my neck. And I was buying several in case he came back and gave me another one. "Oh. Um, I've been feeling cold lately. Maybe I'm starting to feel sick." I passed off, chuckling.

Cassidy didn't buy it. "Stella, if anything, the weather's getting _warmer_. Why would you need six different sweaters?"

I didn't reply, just continued walking over to another rack of thick knit jumpers. She followed me and gazed at my arms. "And you've been wearing long sleeves..." She hummed, and I looked at her with worry. Was she going to pull them up and see the bruises? "Have you been...?" She dragged her finger across her wrist in a cutting motion, looking around suspiciously.

I raised my eyebrows and gasped. "Are you kidding? _No_!" I whisper yelled, hissing in shock.

"Woah, okay, I had to check," She said, holding her hands up in defence. "I get worried, y'know."

"I'd never do that. I'm fine. Honestly." I mumbled sternly, picking up my last sweater, which was grey.

Cassidy followed me to the checkout and I put my clothes down for the woman working at the till to scan. I gave my money and shoved my clothes in a bag, and waited for Cass to be done doing the same.

We walked towards the entrance-exit of the store and Cassidy admired her nails as we strutted down to the bus stations. Cassidy was popular and a few times she waved and smiled at boys and girls alike from in and out of school, as I timidly shifted my gaze away. Cassidy knew practically everyone. I was honestly waiting for the Joker to show up and for her to wave as though he was an old friend, she was that popular.

My paranoia had calmed down a little as I realised to win the game, all I had to do was play by his rules. Keep my mouth shut and stay out of trouble. That was it. I was still scared of turning corners and getting shoved into a wall by his strong, forceful hands, but my fear had calmed down much more to imagine that happening. I considered maybe talking to my doctor or my counsellor, but I still couldn't muster up a vague bullshit story or a metaphor to tell them my problems without exposing what _actually_ happened. I figured maybe I'd just have to wait it out for him to stop after all.

Cassidy sighed contently and turned her head to look at me. "How's your mom?"

I shrugged. "Alright, I guess. Not much has changed. She's still always busy with work, I'm still always home alone. Y'know, same old, same old."

"I know what it feels like," She said sympathetically. "Y'know, with dad working for Wayne Enterprises and all. Honestly, sometimes it feels like I don't even _have_ a dad-!"

Cassidy stiffened at her choice of words and I looked off to the side, pretending as though I didn't hear her say a word.

"Oh... Stell, I'm sorry."

I shrugged carelessly, sticking out my bottom lip. "It's cool."

And honestly, it was. She meant no harm.

We made it to the bus bays and she stood opposite me, her heels clacking on concrete as she stopped. "I guess I gotta wait for my bus. Go home, be safe, alright?" She gave me an encouraging smile as if she sympathised with me, as if she knew what I was going through, but she had no idea. Not a clue.

I nodded and accepted her hug, squeezing her shoulders.

"I love you, Stella." She grinned.

"Love you, Cass." I pursed my lips and then she turned to wait for her bus and I walked away, clutching my bag tightly to my arms. I continued walking and I found a public bathroom, figuring maybe a change of clothes would help me loosen up in my own skin a little.

I closed myself in a stall and took out the bunchy cream knit sweater and snapped all of the tags off, taking the shirt I was currently wearing off and into the bag. The stone cold air of the bathroom stalls hit me raw against my pink pale flesh and I looked down at my arms, seeing the once purple bruises settle to a cool blue colour, seeming to fade slowly each day. I skimmed my fingers across the mark on my neck and shuddered at how soft and thin the skin felt. The one thing I hated most about myself and that Godforsaken hickey was that the kisses were pleasurable. I'm sure anybody could've kissed me on the neck like that and made me weak in the knees, because kisses like that were made to feel good. And I couldn't work my head around why, at that moment, it felt good when his tongue latched onto my skin like that. The thought of the insane creep touching me in any way disgusted me but I couldn't lie to myself anymore- I liked how he kissed my neck. I didn't particularly like that _he_ was doing it, but I liked how it _felt_ and I wanted to feel it again, but maybe not by him. No- _definitely_ not by him.

I sighed heavily, wrinkling my nose at the stink of piss and probably something dead that stuffed up the bathroom. I hurriedly pulled the knit sweater over my head and stepped out of the stall, checking myself in the mirror. The mirror was musty with age and the corners were rusty and mouldy and even had moss growing on it. I grimaced in disgust as I hurriedly fixed my platinum hair so the light teal streaks I'd reapplied the night before were visible. I couldn't have all that effort go to waste. The sweater sat comfortably on my shoulders and the bunchy collar discreetly hid the mark on my neck. I actually liked how it looked on me. I tried to smile at my reflection, convincing myself I was just a happy, normal young adult with no shame to hide.

But I had so much to hide. A murderer, a hickey, and the urge to vomit just thinking about it.

I hunched my bag over my shoulder and made my way out of the bathroom and confidently strode through the town, making my way over to the one spot I was too scared to visit again; the flower gardens.

It wasn't fair. I wasn't going to let the Joker steal my happiness away from me. The flower gardens was the only place in Gotham that looked lush and clean, and the only place I could tolerate to be at for more than a half hour. It was a place I came to clear my head and to calm down. I liked flowers as much as I liked astronomy and the vast peace they both gave me when I thought that the world'd be nothing without the two was invigorating. I came here for inspiration and personal time alone and I wasn't going to let some loon in a clown suit take that from me.

Even though the air was cold and chilly, the sky was somewhat blue and the sun was out. I strolled around the quiet twists and turns, occasionally passing parents with their children or couples with linked arms. I admired the tulips and the carnations, the little patch of forget-me-nots and tall sunflowers, and I relished in the clean, natural smell they gave off as opposed to Gotham's damp, grim stench of gasoline.

I cracked a small smile as I saw two children, presumably brother and sister, playing tag and rushing by me, nearly hitting me. The woman I assumed were their parent hurried after them and slowed down to smile apologetically at me. "I'm so sorry."

I smiled and giggled lightly. "It's alright." I said honestly, cheered up at the fact that it was the children like these that showed there was still innocence and happiness to be found, no matter who was having a bad day and what dire situations were taking place in this ugly city. I watched as the mother ran to her children, playfully threatening to 'gobble them up' as she scooped both of them into her arms and nuzzled them whilst growling like a little monster. The small happy tilt of my mouth stayed on my lips as I fondly watched the happy family I never had.

 _But where was the dad?_

A low voice behind me sighed. "Little rays of _sunshine_ , aren't they?"

 _Not now_. I mentally begged. _I was doing so well._

I didn't look behind me, I didn't even glance. I continued to stare forward at the family as though he were just a mental hallucination, just a ghost. My hands settled delicately in crossed arms, the handles of my bag linking somewhere between my covered elbow.

The Joker- or Jack- whatever suits best- stepped forward beside me and I felt him look at me. I couldn't bring myself to look back, my stomach in knots and my head in a muddle. It had been about five days. So why now? And why here?

He smacked his lips and I saw from the corner of my eye that he wasn't wearing his bandana, and I was terrified people'd notice his scars and recognise him. We were beside a willow tree on the more empty part of the garden, but I still worried. He didn't want me to get him into trouble yet he was waving himself around like bait.

"How's _my_ little ray of _sunshine_ , uh, _doing_ , hm?" Joker asked, his voice teasing and mocking. I still stared ahead blankly, my throat dry from nervousness. " _Still_ keeping your sweet little _lips_ locked, I hope?"

"I'm not your _anything_." I grumbled darkly, my eyebrow cocked in confidence. I felt his gaze pierce me and he chuckled, hands in his pocket, stepping a little closer.

"Uh, you're my _whatever_ for as long as I _want_ you to be. You got a little mark to _prove_ it and all." I glanced at him to see him smirking triumphantly. He looked different. His hair was much more brown again and the lighting made his scars less obvious, especially with no paint on. He wasn't donning a purple suit, either, in fact he wore casual jeans and a simple shirt.

I felt his presence get closer to me as I hugged my arms to my chest. "I didn't ask for it, you asshole."

"Mmm, but you _liked_ it. I, uh, _know_ you did," He hummed lowly, his bicep brushing my arm. "You won't admit it, but _deep_ down, right in that crazy little _gut_ of yours, you _loved_ it."

I didn't say anything, just flinched at his touch and backed away. Within single contact, I'd lost all confidence ans was scared again. He giggled lightly and we both knew that somehow, whichever way, he was right. "Please leave me alone," I said quietly, looking up at him with wide, begging eyes as I stepped back from him. "I-I don't want-"

My stuttering died away as his hand roughly grabbed my face, squeezing both my cheeks tightly. It felt sore and I whimpered, as all he did was grin madly at me, pressing his nose closely against mine. He scared me, he really did. Drowning in that tank and the ocean and everything I'd ever feared seemed like heaven compared to his hand touching me and his laughs and his heavy breaths of delight and the same damn chuckle that echoed throughout my head.

He was about to say something, I was about to scream, but an old couple walked past and Joker turned me around so his back was facing them and he was hiding me, and even though he didn't, it looked like he was kissing me to the poor people that passed. I heard the woman scoff in disgust and her partner sighed.

"Stop grumbling," The old man said quietly to his wife, but loud enough for me to hear. "We were like that once."

"Don't give me that, we had more respect than that." She muttered.

Joker looked into my eyes and giggled playfully, raising his eyebrows. I looked away repulsively and rolled my eyes, my hands pressing against his shoulders and hoping he'd let me go.

The old man groaned. "Oh, come on, now."

"No. I wish you'd still kiss me like that." The woman complained once more and then eventually they passed, still talking and complaining, and the Joker followed my gaze with slightly hooded eyes.

He smirked and with his nose still pressed up against mine, he laughed. "Yeah, _Stell_. I wish _you'd_ kiss _me_ like that."

I let out a noise of obvious disgust and shoved him away from me, stomping in the other direction. I barely took half a step before he grabbed my wrist and pulled me until my back pressed against his chest, yet I winced at the pain that my bruised wrists still endured. I hissed. "What do you _want_?" I asked, gritting my teeth in irritation and hostility.

He cackled loudly against my cheek as he leant his neck forward, pressing his face intimidatingly closely against mine. "I want you to _behave_. Like the goody two shoes I _know_ you are."

"Why?" I cracked out an angry grunt, watching out for anybody to pass.

"I've got _business_ , sweet cheeks. Work gets _tiring_. I need some _fun_ behind the, uh, _scenes_ ," He tocked his tongue, making me grimace. "Like I said, therapy _outside_ of therapy."

"Do I look like a fucking psychiatrist to you?"

"You take psych in your, uh, _fancy_ college, don'tcha?"

"How'd you know that?" I questioned, squinting my eyes.

He grinned. "You _lost_ any, uh, _schoolbooks_ recently?"

I widened my eyes. "That's where my book went? You fucking _stole_ it?!"

"I _read_ through it, toots. Nothin' _useful_ anyway," He scoffed. " _Lovely_ handwriting, though. You should start writing me love _letters_ to pin on the refrigerator." He teased, tapping my cheek fondly, making a quiet slapping sound. I winced.

"Can't you just leave me alone and find another 'toy' to fulfil your sick needs?" I asked stubbornly, struggling in his grip.

"Too late," He mumbled, burying his nose in my hair. I shivered in fear and intimidation as I thought of the sick gesture. "I, uh, I already _claimed_ you. Whoops."

I whimpered and whined against his grip, feeling another sobbed choke rise up my throat. But just for my sake, I kept quiet.

He licked his lips. "Let's, uh, take you _home_ , now. Shall we?"

I stepped away from him and shook my head. "No. Just leave me alone, I-"

He followed my steps and grabbed me by the back of my neck. "Uh, listen. _Doll_ ," He growled, right in my ear. "Just do as I, uh, _say_ , and things are gonna go-ah, _smoothly_."

I pouted my bottom lip and shivered. "Please." I sniffled quietly, my fear once again getting the best of me.

His hand pawed for his pocket and he fiddled around with something that was inside of it, and he pulled out the same small knife as he had yesterday. He discreetly pressed it up against my stomach and raised his eyebrows at me, as if challenging me. " _Smoothly_." He repeated.

I sighed in defeat and looked down. "Which way are we headed...?"

He grinned and pocketed his knife once more, releasing me as though he'd never touched me. " _Atta_ girl," He extended his arm forward to signal my lead. "Take the, uh, _lead_ , toots. Let's take you _home_ , hm?"

I heaved my chest loudly and hesitantly walked forward, towards where my house was. He walked a little to the side behind me, hands casually in his pocket and he whistled a tune I couldn't recognise. Out of the flower gardens it was a fairly calm walk from then on, if my heart wasn't pounding so hard in my chest. I felt his gaze in the back of my neck and my hands trembled. I clutched my bag tightly to my arm and walked forward, daring to look back every now and then to see if he'd leave. But sadly, he lingered.

Eventually we reached the driveway of my home and I saw no sign of my mom's car. I was sad and hopeless but at the same time relieved- at least she wouldn't see me with this freak.

"Your, uh, _parents_ home?" He asked, standing with his hands on his hips, inspecting my house as though he'd never seen it before.

I crossed my brows. " _Parent_ ," I corrected him, "And no. My mom must still be in work."

Joker didn't question my correction but he stared at me with his head slightly tilted as he tongued the insides of his scars, poking around his cheek. He blinked hard for a second and smirked. " _Lucky_ you. I get to keep you, uh, _company_."

 _You're such a lucky girl, Stell._

I shook my head, nearing my door. "No. No, you don't."

"Let me _in_ , Stella."

"No," I shook my head and leant against the door, not allowing him access. "I-I can't."

"Why _not_?" He asked, leaning against the door with his palm, vibrating a loud bang down the door and up my spine.

"You're going to hurt me."

He tutted and rolled his eyes. "Kitten, if I _wanted_ to do that, I'd have _killed_ you, uh, _already_. And you're _only_ gonna get _hurt_ if you don't do as you're _told_."

I whimpered and bit my lip, slowly shaking my head.

"Stella," He growled, his eyes turning dark with anger. " _Move_."

The look on his face scared me so much I nearly ran out of the way. I leant to the side and with trembling hands I set it on the handle, but the Joker didn't mess around. He shoved the door open and pushed me in, struggling in after me. I yelped as he pushed me into the wall on the side and he just shut the door. Well, he slammed it shut.

We both exchanged stares for a minute; his stare an expecting and somewhat patient one, and mine riddled with fear and anxiety. No words were spoken between the two of us until he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, _so_ ," He said. "I'm gonna have a look _around_."

I stammered as he began walking up the stairs. "Wait, no-" But he was already up at the top of the stairs. I sighed shakily and followed like a lost dog, and I saw him go into my room. I managed to get in afterwards and I watched as he glanced around, hands in his pockets. I watched him cautiously and I eventually settled to sit on my bed upright, cross legged and attentive. I was stiff with worry and anticipation of what he'd throw around.

He smacked his lips. "You tidied the _books_." He commented.

I nodded, thinking of the last time we met. "Well, uh, they were all over my room. No thanks to you."

He shot me a glare. " _Don't_ , uh, talk to me like _that_."

I swallowed timidly and looked down. "Sorry."

He rolled his eyes and continued looking around, glancing around my desk in particular. " _Where's_ my, uh, _card_?"

I looked up at him. "Well, um, I threw it away, obviously."

He turned to look at me and crossed his eyebrows. I immediately knew he didn't like my response. " _Why_?"

"I-I..." I stammered, not being able to find the words. "I didn't think it was impor-"

"It had my _number_ on it, uh, _stupid_. To stay in _contact_ ," He growled, inching closer to the bed. "I don't _do_ things without a _reason_ , doll. I _own_ you."

"No," I shook my head. "No you don't."

"I _do,_ " He mumbled, sitting opposite me on the bed. He reached a hand out and I stayed stock still, scared of flinching. He toyed with the neck of my shirt and sighed, pulling it gently out of the way. My breath caught in my throat as his finger brushed the hickey on my neck. He grinned widely to himself and chuckled. "What a _silly_ little, uh, _sweater_ ," He mused, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "Why'd you wanna _hide_ the, ah, _gift_ I gave you?"

"Our little secret, remember?" I annoyingly asked, mocking his words sarcastically. He shot me daggers and I raised my eyebrows challengingly. I knew I was treading on thin ice.

"Mmm," He hummed, brushing my hair behind my ear. " _Clever_ girl. But how are, uh, _other_ people supposed to know that you. Are. _Mine_ -ah?"

"Should've thought of that before." I mumbled. I avoided his gaze and shuddered at how close he was. What the hell was he doing?

I shivered at his breath hitting my skin again and bit my lip, closing my eyes. He observed my reaction and paused. "Oh," He said, raising an eyebrow, acting as though he'd newly discovered something. " _You_ wanna see how _far_ I'll go. Alright."

I furrowed my eyebrows and my eyes flashed open. "What?"

"It's a _fun_ game we're playing, sweets, but you're-ah, _bending_ the _rules_ a little," He momentarily puckered his lips, making a smack noise. He licked his lips and leaned forward, grinning wide. "But _don't_ you worry. I ain't _got_ no rules."

I let out an exasperated gasp as his hand touched my knee. Internally I was screaming. What on earth did he think he was doing?! I swore he was going to rape me one day, if I wasn't careful.

He hummed and leaned closer before I swallowed. "What're you doing...?"

"Shush, shh," He hushed me, tapping my lips with his finger. I held in a confused sigh. "You're ruining the _game_ , Stell." His hand teasingly slid further up my leg and rested on my thigh, and all I could do was watch and wait in fear and confusion. I wasn't going to aggravate him, I just had to endure it. Again.

His hand was on the top of my thigh, his face only inches away from mine, and I shut my eyes tightly as my tears welled up in my throat and suddenly-

The front door opened.

"Shit." I said, my hands fumbling to try and push him back, but he didn't budge. Neither of us did.

We both froze stock still and I let out much needed breath. Joker's finger still rested on my lips and he gave me a threatening glare. "Not a _sound_." He mouthed.

I waited to hear anything else.

My mom's voice called from downstairs. "Stella? You home?"

I looked at the Joker for a command, knowing he'd very well break my back if I tattle taled on him.

"You're getting dressed." He whispered.

"I'm getting dressed!" I loudly hollered back to her, my heart beating so fast I thought it was going to jump out of my throat. Joker smiled approvingly at me and his hand slid back down to my knee, which I forgot was there in the first place.

My mom yelled back. "Okay, you using the shower any sooner?"

Joker shook his head at me.

"Uh, no." I called back and he chuckled lightly.

After that we ended up waiting in ten minutes' silence whilst Joker eventually ended up lazily tracing circles on my knees, and suddenly I jerked my legs. "Don't." I whispered.

"Ticklish?" He offered, with a smile.

I glared. "Just a little."

Suddenly a door down the hallway opened, and then closed suddenly. After a moment the shower turned on, and Joker sighed, leaning back up and stretching his arms tiredly and clicking his neck. I grimaced at the sound and curled my toes. Suddenly, he got up and I looked up at him.

"You're leaving?" I asked. He confused me. He was so bipolar. One minute he had his hands practically around my neck, then he was on top of me and then he was leaving the next. I'd asked multiple times for him to leave me alone and only now he responded.

He smirked at me, ruffling his hair. "What? You gonna, uh, _miss_ me?" He teased, his tongue brushing along his teeth.

I smiled in relief. "Not really," I mumbled under my breath, thankfully not loud enough for him to hear. I was overwhelmed with joy to know he was finally leaving. "Wait, how are you gonna leave?"

He smacked his lips and hummed. "Close your eyes."

I raised an eyebrow.

" _Do_ it." He sighed sternly.

Doing as I was told, I shut my eyes for a few seconds. Not feeling or hearing anything else, I shyly opened one eye and then both, seeing my room totally empty and void of his presence. I looked around my room, paced to my wardrobe and opened the door, and even looked under the bed. He was gone.

From the corner of my eye, my curtains were flowing, a light breeze entering my room. I stepped over to the open window and peered out, watching the same dull rain knock against my window, comforting me.

He was gone.


	8. Chapter 8: The Missing Vodka Bottle

**Chapter 8: The Missing Vodka Bottle**

I shut the front door and leant against it tiredly, heaving out a sigh. Another day of school, another day of stress, anxiety and high expectations. I swear- to them enough just wasn't enough. I try as hard as I can and they keep screaming 'try harder'. And when you finally get that A, they have suspicions that you're cheating, or maybe you're too clever and you're learning things wrong. School honestly just needed to chill the hell out.

I yawned and ran a hand through my hair, kicking off my shoes. I made my way over to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards for something to eat; like a granola bar or a packet of Haribos. Something stupid and small but appetising. I shovelled through various cans of beans and pasta before finding a packet of Malteasers at the back. I pulled it out and checked the best before date, then shrugged. _Still edible._

I ate a few Malteasers and paced around the kitchen to kill time. I was thinking about what to do tonight- maybe watch Lord of the Rings or do some painting. _I haven't painted in a while_ , I thought to myself. Or I could just browse the internet and scare myself by searching up pictures of sharks. Sharks creeped me out but they were so fascinating and cool, I couldn't help myself. I lightly chortled in laughter to myself.

I looked through the drinks cupboard to look for a small bottle of Vodka or heck, even just a simple can of Coke. Anything would do, I'd just much rather the Vodka right now. I searched through the cupboard to find the small bottle I'd claimed as mine, but I couldn't find it. I pondered where it went. Did mom drink it? No, she didn't like Vodka. She preferred Malibu and besides, she would've taken the bigger bottle if she was desperate. Anyway, where was her Malibu? That wasn't their either. No- my Vodka. Did I drink it? I tried to recall the last time I'd drunk alcohol but it was actually quite a while ago. At a party I really didn't want to attend.

"Where the heck..." I mumbled under my breath, scratching my head tiredly in thought. Then I heard a noise. A subtle thump from upstairs. I nearly jumped out of my own skin but then I drooped my eyes boredly, having a perfectly clear idea of who took my drink. I glanced up at the ceiling, sighed, and turned to make my way upstairs.

I marched up each step, letting the someone in my room know I was coming and that I was annoyed. As I stormed down the corridor, I heard a low giggle then a little "Uh oh." before I swung my bedroom door open.

Even though I knew what was happening, I still got frightened by the sight of the Joker sprawled out on my bed, drinking rawly from my mom's bottle of Malibu. I let out a surprised yelp and slammed my hand to my chest, angrily slamming the door.

Joker gulped his mouthful and breathed out, grinning. "Oh, you _made_ it. I, uh, _thought_ it took you a _while_. Nice day at _school_?"

My eyes widened in anger and I crossed my eyebrows, fists clenched. "What the hell are you doing here? And why are you drinking from our cupboard?!"

The Joker groaned as he sat up, kicking his shoes off. I didn't really appreciate how he tossed them across the room by the door, making the cream carpet muddy. He'd already made himself at home and took his jacket off which was slung over my desk chair. I was boiling with frustration at the sight of his face paint on my pillows and if I hadn't known any better, I would've slapped his stupid smirk right off his face.

He clicked his tongue and licked his lips, pursing them together. "I wanted to, uh, _talk_. Y'know, seeing as you're my _new_ , uh, _therapist_ ," He said, moving his hair from his face. "And I figured you needed to-ah, loosen _up_. Have a _drink_."

Sadly, he was right. I did need to loosen up, but I didn't appreciate that he knew I needed to. He was the main _reason_ I needed to loosen up. I looked at him to see him glance suggestively at my desk. On my desk was my smaller bottle of Vodka, the one missing from the cupboard.

I picked it up, examining it and even sniffing the drink to see if he'd sabotaged it with poison or drugs or something. He rolled his eyes at my actions. "How'd you know which one was mine?" I asked.

"I didn't," he shrugged, taking a long gulp of his drink before laying lazily on his back. "I just, uh, had a feeling you were a _lightweight_. You're _small_. So I chose the smallest one."

I still glanced at the bottle in hesitation, worried that my next sip would be my last. "What... did you want to talk about?" I hesitantly asked, pulling up my desk chair and sitting in it. I felt his jacket against my back and I wondered if he minded me leaning against it or not.

His tongue poked around the inside of his cheek. "Drink up and I'll _tell_ you, princess." He mumbled patiently, turning his head on the pillow to look at me. I mentally sighed at the red and white paint marks he left.

I looked at the bottle once more and by my gut instinct, I raised the bottle to my mouth and took a long gulp. It took a while to swallow down and I squeezed my eyes shut at the stinging sour taste, before sticking my tongue out and wincing. "You never get used to it, do you?" I rhetorically asked, to which he chuckled.

"You drink much?" Joker asked, resting a hand behind his head.

I shrugged, moving my hair from my face. "Not regularly. But sometimes."

He didn't say anything, just pointed to the desk. "I, uh, returned your _precious_ book." I glanced over to where he pointed and I saw my red psychology book sat on top of my other books, and I sighed contently. I didn't feel like I had to thank him, not that I wanted to.

I scratched at my neck which was obscured by my baggy sweater. My bruises had gone but my neck still had a pink tint from where he'd... kissed it. I still didn't like the thought and a few nights beforehand I nearly vomited again thinking about the ridiculous amount of stress it gave me.

 _Smack_. I looked over to him as his lips made the noise, and the Joker groaned before saying his next words. "Lucky for, uh, _you_ , I'm in one of my... _good_ moods today," He bobbed his head about in mock happiness and chuckled, mumbling under his breath about how funny he was. I sipped some more Vodka, comfortable with the fact that it wasn't poisoned or drugged, and pondered about his insanity. "And I-I figured since you _belong_... to _me_ ," He drawled out, drinking some more, " _We_ should have some _bonding_ time." He flashed a toothy grin, which was white once more. The yellow covers must've been taken off. I found it weird that he felt the need to make himself look ugly when he was in his Joker get-up.

I raised an eyebrow and rested my elbow on the desk, leaning my chin in my palm. "I'm not a trophy, Joker."

"No, no, _no_ ," He agreed, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. "I never _said_ that. You're my _toy_. I can _show_ people my trophies. _Brag_ about 'em. I'm not _sharing_ my toys."

I rolled my eyes and ignored his statement, drinking again. "Right." I mumbled under my breath. I wasn't his to call his own and to be frank, I wasn't impressed with his unusual infatuation with being my owner. If only we had our exams on insane people in psych- I had the perfect specimen sat right in front of me.

He wiped some face paint on his hands in his purple trousers, then winced his mouth out, as if stretching his scars. I mimicked licking the insides of my cheeks discreetly, wondering what it'd feel like to have scars like him. Hopefully, I'd never know.

"Where's your _mom_?" Joker asked.

"Work." I said.

"What about your _dad_?"

I stiffened. my gaze froze onto the floor as I considered answering his question. I desperately grabbed my Vodka bottle, taking as much of a mouthful as I could and swallowed it. "None of your damn business." I muttered through gritted teeth.

" _What_ was that?" He asked, near fits of laughter. He was mocking me.

"I said I don't know." I replied, not really innocently, but innocent enough as to pretend I never said anything. I opened my mouth to retaliate and ask about his parents, but I held my tongue back and decided it wasn't the wisest choice.

The Joker stared at me and soon enough, I stared back with cold, dead eyes. My gaze told him that I wanted him dead. He giggled lowly and he whispered in a playful tone, " _Sparky_ little _firecracker_."

Hearing those words again, for some strange reason brought me great satisfaction. Seeing his mouth move, his chest rise and fall, his eyes gaze at me as he said it made me grateful that I was here to witness him saying it. No more hallucinations. No more of my imagination. He was real and he was saying it to my face and I wasn't going mad after all.

I didn't break my stubborn stare as I raised the bottle to my lips and drank some more. I already began to feel lightheaded and my throat tingled. _I really am a lightweight._

Joker looked at the bottle I held and then back to me. "You're nearly _out_ ," He said, then offered me his bottle. "Want, uh, some of _mine_?"

I glanced at my bottle and saw I barely had half a gulp left. Had I drunk that much already? His was still well over half full, and it was quite a large bottle. He'd probably drunk the same amount that was in my bottle and he barely even slurred. It was either because I was such a lightweight or he could really control himself. Or maybe his drink was weaker than mine. Either way, I was getting drunk and that was a bad thing.

I tipped the remains of alcohol in the Vodka bottle down my throat, and swallowed it sourly. I put it down on the desk and wheeled my chair forward so I could reach over to take his bottle of Malibu. It wasn't the best and surely not the strongest, but a drink was a drink. He watched me with predator eyes as I pressed the rim of the bottle to my lips and tilted the drink into my mouth. I swallowed with a light pop of my tongue and he smirked sideways slightly. I wondered for why he'd looked at me like that but I didn't bother asking. He was probably mentally teasing me or maybe thinking he'd won over me by getting me pissed.

The Joker placed a hand on my knee with a discreet flicker of his eyes and asked, "Are you, uh, _angry_ at your ma?"

I brushed the hand away with the bottom of my bottle and sent him daggers and scowls. He didn't respond much, just chuckled quietly.

"Sometimes." I said, drinking.

"How come she's barely _home_?" He asked, thoughtfully stroking his knuckles against his red lips.

"She works a lot," I said, biting my bottom lip before letting it go. "I know she can't help it. It's just her and me and she needs good money, so she got a good job. So she's busy a lot."

"Do you, uh, want her to _quit_ her job?" He asked in a curious tone, yet there was something sly about it I didn't like. His eyes travelled up to look at my chest- but I wasn't sure if it was because he was staring at my breasts or if he was reading the Oasis logo on my shirt, some band I kinda liked.

My voice caused him to look away. "Not really," I said, taking another sip of the drink. "Sometimes I like being home alone."

He smirked. "What's the, uh, _reason_ behind _that_ , toots? Anybody _special_ sneaking in to see ya?" He cockily teased, obviously referring to himself.

I scoffed. "It's just me, myself and I."

"So you masturbate?"

The sudden question caused me to turn my head to the side and nearly spit the mouthful of Malibu I had held in. I swallowed, coughed lightly and stared back at him with wide, round eyes.

"Excuse me?!"

"You're _blushing_."

I pressed a hand to my cheek and felt the red hot blood rushing up to my skin. I sighed heavily and grimaced in disgust.

 _But, I mean, I can't tell him_.

"No, I do _not,_ " I forced (a lie) through gritted teeth. "That assumption wasn't even relevant to what I was saying!"

He wasn't buying it. He sat up and grinned madly, staring me right in the eyes. After a long minute of silence, he said, "You're a _virgin_ , aren't you?"

 _Yes_.

"That's none of your business." I accused, trying my best to hold my glare without breaking eye contact. "Besides, what would the difference be if I was?" I questioned rhetorically, but I was actually quite curious.

The Joker laughed hard to himself, clutching his sides. Soon his laughs died down to giggles and he sat forward, leaning his arms across his knees. I did well to make my distance, wheeling my chair back inch by inch.

He then mumbled under his breath, a sinister yet playful gleam in his dark, dark eyes.

"Because if you are, I'd _ravish_ you on this bed. Right here. Right. _Now_."

I gulped heavily, my words jammed in my throat. I wanted to break eye contact but if I did, he'd know I was avoiding his question. I was tense, so stiff, and I never wanted to hear him say it again. It struck a strange cord in my pit of emotions, feeling scared and reluctant, yet somewhat curious at the same time. My curious cord being twanged first, I wondered what it'd be like. I had a feeling he'd fuck like a rapist. I had a feeling he _was_ a rapist.

I tried not to think about it.

Then within an instant, his eyes lit up comically and he clapped his hands together. " _But_! Seeing as you're not answering my, uh, _question_ , it doesn't _matter,_ " He hummed, giggling. "Because it's ' _none of my business_ '." He mimicked me, using finger quotations.

I stayed silent and drank some more. I needed to drink the whole thing and an ocean's worth if I wanted to survive being harassed by this lunatic.

He stood up and ventured around my room, practically touching everything just to annoy me. I stayed quiet and tried not to lash out, but it was so difficult.

He ran his slender fingers along the books in my bookshelf. "You _read_ a lot?"

I rolled my eyes and stood, then instantly regretted it, seeing that the alcohol had already kicked in by the way I stumbled. "Well, no, I just keep them there for fun." I sarcastically retorted, swatting his hand away from the bookshelf.

He gripped my wrist as a warning, but his face was normal. I supposed his actions said more than his words... or expressions, I suppose. He let go of my wrist and I went back to get my bottle, drinking some more. My vision became hazy and I willed my vision to stay still again. _No, I can't get drunk while he's still around... dammit._

Joker's head turned as soon as he realised I'd walked back into the bookshelf thanks to my stumbled, drunk steps. I swore under my breath, wishing I'd never drunk a drop.

" _Damn_ , you _are_ a lightweight, ain'tcha, sweet cheeks?" He smiled to himself, closing in on me. His arms were leant besides either sides of my head, locking me against the bookshelf. I slurred out in an aggravated groan, not wanting him anywhere near me in this state.

"Go away..." I mumbled, pressing my hands against his chest. He snickered and lifted me by my waist, to which I protested my hitting his shoulders. "No! Let me... down!" I hiccupped, burying my hands in his hair so I could pull on it slightly, just to annoy him. I despised thinking so in depth about it, but his hair was rather soft for how it looked.

"Mmm," He groaned to himself, placing me down on the bed. I furrowed my brows in frustration as he climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. "What'll I _do_ with you in, uh, _this_ state, huh, doll?" Joker teased, gently slapping my cheek with his fingertips. I was surprised they weren't broken with how they crunched under my heel the few nights before.

I drunkenly groaned in disgust as he pinned my wrists above my head. "I could _take_ you in _so_ many ways right now," He mumbled closely into my ear, his lips barely grazing my jaw. I held in a shocked moan of protest and tried to turn my head away. But then he pulled back and ruffled my hair childishly. "But I won't _play_ with my, uh, _food_ tonight. I'll letcha _sleep_."

"No." I angrily objected, gripping his shoulder.

His eyes lit up like Christmas lights and he grinned widely. " _No_? Oh... y-you _want_ me to, um, have my _wicked_ way with you?" He stuttered in excitement.

I widened my eyes and howled in unbelieving laughter. "No!" I yelled at him, causing him to roll his eyes and scoff. "I'm not sleeping." I said and he tutted.

"Do what you _like_. As if _I_ care. I'm _busy_ tomorrow and we have-ah, _therapy_ session, so I won't be in the... _brightest_ of moods." He admitted, slowly climbing off of me. The empty weight that disappeared from me vanished and left my skin cold. I watched as he took his jacket and shrugged it on, and I observed how he licked his lips before he drank from the bottle we unintentionally shared. I licked my own lips, wondering if he'd notice my taste on the rim.

He put the bottle down and tilted his head sideways to look at me.

I sucked my bottom lip. "It's Tuesday tomorrow. I'm meeting up with my friend, Cassidy."

" _Well_ , sweet cheeks," His voice became gravely and low as he strode towards me and gripped my face. "Tell _Cassidy_ that you've-ah, got _other_ plans." He spat out her name as if it were poison in his mouth. It was obvious he didn't care for the people who mattered to me, but too scared to oppose his proposition, I accepted it in defeat.

He made his way towards my bedroom door and my first thought was to follow him to the front door, so I did. He stayed by the door and looked at me with a strange grimace, shaking his head. Then he, for some reason, smirked. "It's been, ah... _fun_. But you _don't_ wanna _see_ what, uh, _happens_ if you _disobey_ me. _Stell-uh_." He teased out my name like he was mocking me. Then without a goodbye, he turned on his heel and walked out, down the street casually.

After he was out of sight, I shut the door and leant against it, my chest shaking with silent sobs. I fell to the floor and gripped my hair, cursing the day I ever set foot on that bus.


	9. Chapter 9: One Bad Day

**Chapter 9: One Bad Day**

I used to love to play pretend as a kid. With a plastic stethoscope draped professionally around my small neck and a fake thermometer in hand, I used to take mommy's 'blood' when she wasn't busy. I was simply Nurse Stella, with a flashy pink post-it note name tag to prove it. I wanted to be a nurse when I was younger, much, much younger. My five year old self was convinced that working for Gotham General would be like living the dream- taking patients' temperatures every day and making sure they felt top-notch and as fit as a fiddle, after ensuring they took their 'non-stinging special medicine injection', of course. And I'd always be especially gentle and kind to Cassidy, who was dead-set on becoming a supermodel and become as pretty and perfect as the girls in magazines.

It was sad to think that most kids grew out of that phase as soon as they reached age ten. But Cassidy- wow- Cassidy had kept her dreams, her hopes higher than the clouds in the sky. She'd succeeded, as she took modelling and cosmetics courses outside of college, whilst she studied the art of fashion and figure back in school. She wasn't giving up. Once Cassidy made plan A, there was no plan B. She got what she wanted even if it killed her. And I admired that.

Realising that being a nurse in Gotham General was impractical, I took a different approach. At age fourteen, while I was experiencing my hormonal state of depression and romanticising the obsession of mental health, I decided to take psychology classes. I wanted to be a therapist. I wanted to work for the one and only Arkham Asylum for the Critically Insane. Sure, art was and still is my passion and number one priority, but treating the sick in more mental ways meant more to me at the time and it seemed to fascinating.

Now, I wasn't so sure.

I felt like I was five again. Playing pretend, but this time, with a real patient.

The Joker laid like a log on my bed, facing the ceiling with a dead, nostalgic glare. I sat in my wheelie desk chair, one leg comfortably draped over the other. I had a notepad and a pen in hand, but I didn't write anything in there, I just doodled stars and moons and anything that came to mind. The Joker wanted me to hold the notebook though, as he said it 'set the scene' and made it 'look more convincing'. Heck, I already looked like a 'natural', apparently, so maybe he was right.

"So," I patiently said, tapping the back of my pen against the paper. "Why'd you feel the need to be so..."

"Destructive?" Joker offered, tilting his head towards me.

"Yes."

He squinted his eyes in thought and licked his lips quickly, his tongue lashing out like a serpent's. He did a strange gesture with his hands, his fingers twitching now and then. I had to admit, whether it was a set up joke or not, I was having much more enjoyment out of this than I should've. I wondered if perhaps during this little game I'd eventually come up with a miracle method to set his mind straight? What if, within a breath of my word, I'd cured the Joker and turned his head the right way up, causing doctors and psychologists and therapists everywhere to marvel in awe at my fantastic discovery? What if my name alone wiped out every other professionals' from the list, and I suddenly became some sort of miracle- worker? If I could cure the Joker, everybody'd believe that I could cure the Devil himself if he came to my door. What if-

Yeah, that was just it. What _if._ It was just a what if, anyway, and the Joker was far beyond curable.

Suddenly, the Joker smiled and his eyebrows raised as though an idea had struck him. " _Ah_. I, uh, I like _control_ , doc," He explained, and I cracked a little sideways grin when he'd called me by his slang term for what could be an astounding professional. "Like, as a kid, I _never_ got what I wanted. What I _wanted_ didn't. _Matter_. At _all_. It's... it's, uh, it's _delightful_ to discover how... _powerful_ you actually are, if you really set your _mind_ to it. _Rage_. Rage is like the _mother_ of power. And with _power_..."

"Comes destruction." I nodded, as though I'd cracked his code.

His laugh grumbled in his throat. " _Smart_ girl. You're doing _better_ than the _real_ docs already, toots."

"Stop with the flattery."

" _Right_ , right. Yeah. _Doc_ , right." He stammered, holding up his hands in defence. He didn't say sorry yet somehow without a literal apology I knew he was still making fun of me. I didn't care much; after all, he was having his fun, playing pretend _with_ me and I was having my fun, _getting_ to play pretend with him.

I sucked my bottom lip delicately, thinking of what to say next. "You had depression as a teenager, right?"

"Who _hasn't_?"

"And destroying, that... helped you cope?"

"Ah... _sometimes_ ," He said, stretching his mouth unsurely. "I was into some, uh, some _sick_ stuff, mind you. I had a _girlfriend_ at the time. I was... let's say, around _your_ age..." He began and I listened closely, watching how his lips moved when he spoke. You could've been deaf and just lip read him and you'd already know that there was something awfully wrong with him. Insanity was laced on his lips and his skin. But as I looked closer, I noticed it wasn't insanity... it was pain. He was constantly tonguing the insides of his scars, always licking the corners of his lips. And he never ever touched them with his own bare hands. Was he... hurting?

My theory was that he was one of those 'suffer in silence' type people. He was discreet. Of course, his destruction wasn't, but I highly doubt that was his suffering. I doubt it was his way to cope anymore. He was just a good old, classic anarchist. His destructive tendencies had developed into something new and had blossomed into something _theatrical_. He was obviously some form of a sociopath, who'd rather be seen _and_ heard, and who loved to make a scene. He wanted to make some sort of deep, psychological statement. Which was funny, to see such genius coming from that of a person who needed some deep, psychological _treatment_.

" _Yeah_ , uh, like I _said_ , I was a little _messed up_ back then. I mean, I still _am,_ but... for my age? I was an _asshole_ ," He giggled and I didn't comment, just sat and listened like I was supposed to. "I, um, I... _beat_ my girlfriend," He said, his hands twitching insecurely at his stressed word. I felt my throat turn dry and sticky and my eyes widened in astonishment. The thought didn't surprise me at all, I'd always had a feeling he did some bad things but he nearly looked... guilty. "Messed _up_ , right?" He looked at me, laughing heavily with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why?" I asked.

He shrugged. " _All_ that, uh, all that pent up _rage_. All that _abuse_. I couldn't take it back on _them_ , could I?"

"Who?" I asked, but he didn't answer, just continued.

"So I took it out on _her_. She, uh, she didn't _love_ me, obviously. She was _dumb_ and she was _young_ and she was _blonde_. Oh, no offence."

I rolled my eyes. _I'm not even naturally blonde._

"Having, uh, having _control_ over somebody... it's _satisfying_ , y'know? I mean, we're _all_ hypocrites. I am, the government, _you_..." Then he scowled. "The _Batman_." He spat. Now there was a name and a face I knew. I mean, how couldn't I? He was all over GCN, either being framed as a villain or as a hero. Gotham's infamous masked vigilante, and it was no secret that the Joker despised him.

He continued. "It's- it's real _funny_ , doll."

"Joker."

" _Doc_ ," He corrected himself, then carried on. "His _one_ rule... and I don't see why he _has_ rules, he, uh, he's just _tying_ himself down harder than _I_ do. Harder than this... _disgusting_ city does."

I knew his rule.

"His _one_ rule," He smacked his lips. "Is _not_ to _kill_ ," And then he laughed. "And he's killed _more_ people by keeping that mask _on_ than taking it _off_ and showing us all who he really, uh, _is_."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you hate him?"

The Joker howled in loud laughter and wiped a fake tear from his eye, resting his arms behind his head. "Aw, _nah_. He's, uh... he's too much _fun_. Jeez, without him, we'd both be _nothing_."

"How?"

" _I_ wouldn't create chaos- _ah_ ," He hissed. "If it weren't for _him_. I'm just merrily _waltzing_ around, trying to make my little _statement_. And he comes after me to clean it _up_. I get _all_ the attention and he just carries on, uh, _chasing_ me, leaving _more_ of a mess than there was to _begin_ with," He smiled fondly, as if enjoying the thought. " _I'm_ what makes him _look_ like the _good_ guy, when in reality he's just a scared little boy hiding behind a _mask_."

Suddenly, forgetting how dangerous he was and thinking he'd turned soft in this moment, I forgot that I wasn't a therapist. I didn't have the power around here. And so, I foolishly blurted; "What about you? Aren't _you_ just a scared boy behind a mask?"

I instantly regretted saying so. The Joker's eyes glazed over in madness, the rage clearly filling his brown eyes with raw, black temper. I felt my palms turn cold and clammy as he poked around the insides of his cheek with his tongue, glaring at me with stern eyes that seemed as though they were made out of cold iron. He sat upright and sat with his legs dangling off of the bed and he threateningly leant forward.

"What about _you_ , uh, _doc_?" He mockingly spat, a sadistic smirk donning his lips. I avoided his eye contact but the fear of being forced made me look back again. "What _sad_ , uh, little _girl_ is hiding behind that sweet, _gorgeous_ face of yours, _huh_?"

"Stop it, Joker." I said coldly, looking down. I wasn't going to let him turn the tables on me.

"What horrible, _awful_ torture have _you_ endured, hm? Uh, Starbucks cancelling your _privileged white girl_ drink? Getting a lower score on your _privileged white girl_ exams? Being a _useless_ , shady, _privileged_ _white girl_?"

I didn't understand what he was doing. I couldn't believe that retaliating, trying to get him to open up a little was turning him into a monster again. But he wasn't even that wrathful and rough- in some form, I understood him in a way I could never place. He didn't use shock or straight up scaring as a punishment, he used anticipating fear and the inevitability of the unknown about to come. He used suspense to torture his victims. This wasn't physical... it was _psychological_.

"Or _maybe_ ," He cleared his throat menacingly, smiling dreadfully. "Stella's got some _daddy_ issues."

"That's _enough_!" I yelled, my hot temper stinging my tongue. I'd raised from my seat within half a second, and within the other half, Joker had me pinned up against the wall by my throat.

"Don't, uh, _tempt_ me, sweets," He threatened, cooing softly into my ear. I was so traumatised that I barely moved, but my feeble fingers latched onto his waistcoat out of raw fear. "I don't wanna have to _snap_ that pretty little _neck_ of yours."

"You've got your sensitive subjects," I choked out, a somewhat confident grimace forming on my lips. "I've got mine."

His glare was still hard, yet he grinned like the psychopath he was. And then he laughed. He burst out in hysterics, clutching his head and his sides and then he fell to the floor, rolling in laughter. My eyes widened. How could a person like him become so deranged? How could a man so destructive, so attention seeking, so seemingly abusive and hurt die in hysterics from somebody else's suffering? No normal villain could ever seem so logically insane. Anyone'd figure that someone as crazy as him was illogical... but he was insanely sane. And that _terrified_ me.

My voice trembled in my throat. "W-what happened to you...?"

His laughs died down and he clutched his stomach, craning his head upwards to join his gaze with mine. He had a manic smile on his face and his scars seemed to stretch to infinity.

"One _bad_ day, Stella, _that's_ what happened," He said darkly. " _One_. _Bad_. _Day_."

And his smile dropped.

* * *

A few days later and I hadn't heard of or from the Joker in nearly a week. I would've been glad, if not worried. Why was I worried?

I was worried because he was obviously busy. And by busy I meant out killing people.

My mom finished cooking my spaghetti and placed it down in front of me on the dining table. I didn't have time to mumble a thanks before she'd already turned around and walked out of the room. Figures. I twirled the spaghetti around my fork, not really planning on digging in. I watched how it slipped and swirled, my stomach gurgling for me to swallow it all down. I teased my stomach, letting it gaze for as long as possible but not really letting it have a bite. Self discipline was a funny game.

I'd taken a hobby and a habit to watch the news regularly; to know what my fellow scar faced friend was up to when he wasn't tormenting me. Yet somehow, even when he wasn't around me, I could still feel him mocking me. My mom saw the obvious signs of stress and advised I'd go and see my counsellor, but I had to refuse. I couldn't tell them anything. _He'd_ find out and heck, he'd shoot me between the eyes for it. I'd have to stick to painting or just to the anti-depressants- which wasn't at all pleasant or really that effective, by the way.

I nearly choked on my spaghetti that I was barely eating when I heard news I've waited nearly all week for. I turned up the TV and watched attentively, my eyes glued to the screen.

"Mob leader and one of Gotham's biggest crime lords alongside Sal Maroni and The Chechen; major crime lord most commonly known as Gambol has been found dead in the place he was currently residing at. There was also another dead body on the scene of un unidentified mob member, with half a broken pool cue impaled through his chest."

I winced. _That's gotta hurt._

"There were no more major signs of evidence on the scene yet the way the mob leader faced his death was gruesome- he was found with both ends of his mouth split by what forensics are assuming was a simple hand held blade, and yet again all signs point to the Joker."

"Son of a bitch." I murmured, tracing the edge of my lips delicately. There were so many nerves by your mouth- it must've been terrible torture. But as the Joker liked to state, I could see his statement. _Don't fuck with me or I'll fuck with you._

Yet, I knew that another person was down and the Joker lived to see another day. And that meant Batman was still hiding his true self. The Joker still being around meant another thing- I'd be expecting a visit soon.

Mom walked into the room, obviously she'd heard the TV. "Slit his mouth open? Jesus."

I nodded. "Brutal, right?"

She sighed. "What kind of freak would do that?"

I scoffed lightly under my breath, thinking of the fact that I knew that freak and he was in our house more than once.

" _He_ would."

"What?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, with a fond yet quirked smile on my lips. "Nothing."

And my smile dropped.

* * *

 _ **I know this doesn't seem that good, sorry. :( Still, I hope you enjoyed, don't forget to leave a comment/review! So, any ideas on what's behind Stella's outburst...? ;)**_


	10. Chapter 10: Eat

**Chapter 10: Eat**

My English teacher, Mrs Addams, had her hair up in a tight bun today, her mousy brown hair sticking out from every curve and clip. I liked it when she had her hair up. It meant she was in a good mood, most likely. Once, after she was engaged, she didn't stop wearing it up for weeks. It looked shiny up. Down, it looked flat and damp, greasy and it made her look old. But instantly, with the snap of a bobble, she turned from 46 to 27.

"Alright, so what does the colour and the lighting the author uses say about the character?" She asked, a thin smile on her face.

I sat by the window, and I enjoyed looking out very much. Opposite, on the windowsill of another class, two white doves had made their nest there. The teachers warned us not to touch it. I never did, but I threw seeds and bread crusts out of the window before when nobody was around. The nest had been there ever since I started college, and I had never seen a single egg being laid or hatched. Not one. Just the two pure doves, sat merrily, making their home.

I continued drawing stars all down my wrist. The bruises had definitely vanished, and my pale skin was no longer purple, or black, or blue. The clusters of blue stars at the top of my wrist sank down my arm until I only dotted one or two towards my elbow. The sleeves of my black and red checked shirt were rolled up just above my elbow, giving me room to draw.

I sighed contently with the results and bit the end of the pen tenderly between my teeth. Gazing wondrously out the window, I spied some rain drops dripping down the window softly. Tap. Tap. Tap. I looked around the quiet class, wondering if anybody else was entranced by Mother Nature's music. But no, all twelve people who'd chosen English as their subject choice here looked dead eyed at the board, mouths wide open like suffocated goldfish. Sometimes I felt like the only one who made an effort; not specifically to work, but hey, at least I looked nice. Everybody else were wearing tracksuits or hoodies, while my artistic flair shone out through my tight black jeans and my Nirvana tank tops. Then again, I couldn't blame them. I felt as sorry for them as I did for myself, and that didn't mix well with the stress and the paranoia I was enduring already. _I shouldn't care about them, I should care about me._

Seeing that nobody here was interested in anything around them but the air in which they could breathe, I internally smiled and continued to peer out of the glass. Across the road, by the car park, I spotted somebody, a lone strange looking man, tall, wearing a dark trench coat and holding a black umbrella. His back was faced towards where I was looking, so I couldn't catch a glimpse of his face. He was most likely normal, yet his gait and how artistically he stood made me want to draw down ideas or something, the itching feeling that the scenario he was in gave me a million ideas. He could be going out for a walk. He could've just broken up with his partner. He could've been waiting for his partner. Or heck, maybe he just liked the rain.

"Stella?" A faded voice sank me back into reality, as though I'd just been pulled to safety from drowning. My eyebrows raised and I looked towards who was calling me- the teacher- neck craned like a curious meerkat. "Colour representation? Lighting? Any ideas?" She asked, with a pleading look. "Please?" She knew that nobody else in the class would give her suggestions.

I stuttered in my throat. I glanced back at the excerpt sheet in front of me, on the desk and answered. "Uh... it all represents danger and there's like... a grim theme."

"How?"

"The colour red represents danger, blood or death, meaning that, um, the character wearing red could potentially be a grim figure..."

 _Those lips, that smile, those two... long... scars..._

"A-and the lighting is dark. The character casts a shadow when they walk into the room, like they're, um... darkening the mood..."

 _Like his eyes, round, black pits of endless endings... and darkness..._

The teacher nodded. "And the other character? Why does she wear white?"

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "She's... young. They imply she's a virgin. She's the only symbol of innocence in the story, innocent and... pure. White is a pure colour."

 _Such a pure colour for the impure face of a bastard._

Mrs Addams smiled proudly and clapped her hands together once. "Excellent. Perfect, Stella."

I just smiled.

"This type of answer is how you get your grades..." Her voice fazed out once more as I checked my phone for the time. It was nearly one o' clock, and thankfully today was my last lesson so I could just go home.

And I had two messages from an unknown number.

 _Received at: 12:47pm_  
 _learning's useless_

 _Received at: 12:48pm_  
 _come have a little fun with me_  
 _we could burn the whole city together_  
 _...or we could just have lunch at 1?_

I squinted my eyes in confusion. How absurd. I had a strong feeling I knew who it was, and the obsession with burning the city just gave it away. I swallowed uneasily and glanced around the room, and then out the window to the man in the distance. He was gone. Oh well.

I rolled my eyes at the messages again- the Joker was crazy. Still, I couldn't resist the temptation to add him in my phonebook, and as for the name I just put down 'J'. I originally wanted to write 'Party Clown' because that's what he looked like; a cheap, entertainment character for five year olds on their birthdays- in all due respect. But the idea was way too childish and I wasn't that cruel.

12:59... 1:00!

The bell rang and everybody was quick to grab their stuff and leave, the light and colour returning to their faces again. I was the last out of the class, and Mrs Addams stopped me.

"Stella?"

Shuffling my backpack uncomfortably on my shoulders, I clutched my art portfolio tightly in my palms by the handle of the folder. I stood by the door and turned, wondering why she'd called me out.

"That... annotation, it was brilliant. Don't you do creative writing?" She asked, her skinny form sickly leaning above me.

I shook my head. "I'm more into art. I can't seem to, um, find the words to say to express feelings. That's why I don't write. I do art instead, it's the same sort of therapeutic effect."

She nodded. "Well, see, there's this creative writing course on offer in our English department... you're more than welcome to join, you know."

 _Of course not_. I obviously wanted to say no, but being so blunt would be like running over a puppy- the puppy representing her hopes, probably. "Um... I'll think about it," I smiled. "I mean, with my art and my psych work..." _And my murderous clown stalker_... "...I've got quite a lot on my plate." I apologetically smiled.

She shook it off with a generous giggle. "Well, it's okay. I was just offering and you don't have to join. You could try it out if you want, but you're more than welcome to quit when you think you've had enough."

 _No._

"Okay." I beamed.

"Okay, good," She simply popped. "That's it. Well done today. Be safe going home, now."

 _Don't worry, I've got a psychopath watching my back closely enough_.

"Okay. Thank you Mrs Addams." I bade farewell as I exited the block, walking out to the parking lot and the exit grounds. It was still raining and I held my portfolio above my head the entire time in a feeble attempt to keep dry.

"Christ..." I muttered under my breath. "Why can't I just take a driving test and get a car? So much less hassle..." I complained to myself, the rain dripping down my arms and neck, and also eventually smearing my blue inked stars down my wrists. I sighed heavily, grumpily.

Suddenly, it seemed as though the rain had stopped above me, which was peculiar since I still saw it pouring down around me. I furrowed my brows in confusion and set down my portfolio from above my head, feeling nothing but... dryness.

I heard a throat clearing coming from beside me.

I jumped, clutching onto my chest in distraught. I stopped walking, and so did the person beside me. I saw the man from the car park, black coat, tall, strange gait... and the bandana around his mouth. I took a moment to scoff and roll my eyes, putting the pieces of the not-so-hard puzzle together. It was the Joker. But Joker's eyebrows raised, almost sadly or confused, and I glanced up to see him holding the black umbrella above my head whilst he let himself get drenched by the Spring rain.

"Oh," I said quietly, looking up at the makeup-less clown before (or rather, above) me. "Thanks." I forced a crooked smile. I was in somewhat of a good mood after being praised by my English teacher, and I wouldn't ruin it now by my cold attitude towards him. After all, asshole or not, he hadn't said a word or looked at me in the wrong way yet, so I had no reason whatsoever to be rude or snappy.

By the way his bandana stretched, I figured he smiled. "It's, uh, _okay_. I mean... the rain's _freezing_ , but-ah, anything to help a lady in _need_ ," He teased, lightly tapping my arm. Then he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh, also-uh, your _hair_ looks... your hair looks _nice_." He gestured with his free hand, his thought of a compliment struggling to slip out. I delicately reached up and adjusted the loose bun tying my hair.

"Oh, um, thank you." I eased out a little smile, unsure of whether his compliment was sarcastic or not. After all, the last person I'd ever expect to give me compliments was the Joker himself.

We stood in the rain- or rather, he did, I was sheltered under the umbrella- and we awkwardly stared at each other.

"You _ate_ today?" He asked.

I shook my head, then looked away, clutching my empty stomach self consciously. "I'm not hungry..."

"Tsk," He tutted, rolling his eyes. " _Nonsense_. My, uh, my _pet's_ gotta _eat_. You think I'm gonna let you _starve_ out _that_ easily? Please."

"It's... the stress is... I can't-" Then I blinked. "Wait, did you just call me your _pet_?"

"Let's go get _lunch_." He changed the subject and grinned, pushing my back (pack) quite forcefully to get me to walk.

"Wait-!"

"Don't make me crack your _skull_ against that _lamppost_ , sweets." He clicked his tongue as he lead me on like the 'pet' I apparently was.

Soon enough we were in town and the Joker lead me into some small, peaceful coffee shop. The smell of cocoa and caffeine exhilarated me, making me immediately crave a nice hot mug of herbal tea. My stomach growled quietly but I ignored it, taking my eyes away from the brownies and biscuits on sale behind the glass display cases.

I murmured to Joker, "How much cash you got?"

"None. I don't _buy_ things, remember?" He chuckled, hands carelessly in his pocket.

I groaned internally, hating him silently. I'd met many pricks in my life, but that douche bag was the fucking _cactus_. The bane of my existence. I rummaged around my jean pockets for some money and surely enough I found a couple of bucks.

"What do you want?" I asked, already planning herbal tea on my menu.

"A, uh... a _slice_ of that chocolate cake," He pointed through the glass. "And _two_ of those cookies, one _normal_ chocolate chips and one _white_ chips. Uh... that _syrup_ cake. _And_ a lollipop." He said, popping the end of his sentence with smooth ticks of his tongue. I secretly widened my eyes at his request- that was a lot of food. _Was he going to eat all of that?_

"Can I help you?" The barista asked cheerfully, her voice like the tweet of a canary.

"Yeah, uh... I'll have a herbal tea and..." I listed off the long list of sweet snacks, having to repeat it slowly since she hadn't got it the first time. I was so embarrassed. I glared at Joker as she went off to prepare my tea and Joker's snacks. He simply raised his eyebrows and gave me a sly, playful wink in response. I pretended as though I hadn't seen it, but I turned around just in time to feel my cheeks burn hot red with blush. What was his game?

"Here you go, enjoy." The barista smiled, pushing me the plate piled with snacks and my mug of tea. Joker eagerly grabbed the plate and headed towards a booth seating in the back of the coffee shop, sure to rush past quiet murmuring people as quickly as he could to avoid them seeing the bandana hiding his scars. I followed him more slowly and carefully, cautious as not to spill my tea.

I sat down opposite him and so did he, putting his plate down on the table with a little _clack_. The Joker looked around to see if anybody was near, and when he was assured that there wasn't he pulled the bandana off from around his mouth and groaned in satisfaction, his tongue poking around the insides of his scars. " _God_ , feels _great_ every time." He admitted, carefree, a little grin on his rosy lips.

I took a small sip of my tea but placed it back down, letting it cool off a little. I sighed softly and watched as his tongue poked around the insides of his scars. "I love cafés like these." I peacefully mumbled, looking at the half brick-half panelled walls, the light wooden flooring, the shabby chic style of it all. Plants held in rusty watering cans, chairs with chips and nicks in the legs- it was my type of place.

Joker raised his brows, barely interested. "Oh yeah?"

I nodded and dipped my head, hiding a smile. "Yeah. Couldn't have chosen a better place," I said, unsure of whether he heard me or not. "Do you get out much?" I asked.

Joker shook his head and pursed his lips. " _No_ , uh, I _don't_. Too _busy_ being-ah, _me_." He grinned.

I ignored his remark and brought my mug to my lips, but as soon as I touched the tea he slid the full plate of snacks over in front of me. I set my mug down and shot him a suspicious and confused glare, whilst all he did was watch expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

"Eat _up_ , princess." He urged me on, pushing the plate a little closer.

My stomach gurgled. Oh, how it looked so delicious. The golden cookies, the spongy chocolate cake lathered in rich caramel sauce, the syrup cake glistening in the soft, yellowish light. I wanted to eat it.

I pushed the plate back away. I couldn't.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighed and unwrapped his lollipop, sticking it in his mouth. He gave me a gentle yet threatening glare, not taking my 'no' for an answer.

" _Stella_. I, uh, I said _eat_."

"And I said I'm not hungry." I snapped back, drinking more of my tea.

Joker's eyes squinted as he searched my eyes for something I couldn't provide him with- truth. I couldn't hold eye contact for longer than three seconds as his brown gaze won over mine, but I just looked down at my tea, the leaves in the mug swirling around and creating a surreal image.

Joker scoffed, sighing in realisation. "You're-ah, _starving_ yourself, _aren't_ you?"

My eyes widened momentarily and I bitterly sneered. "No."

"Aw, c'mon, _really_? And _just_ when I thought you were a, uh, a _smarter_ girl than that," He said in disappointment, resting his elbow on the table. "Shame. Such a _waste_." He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a little puckering noise and I bit my tongue, dying to revel in the sweetness he tasted.

"I _am_ smart," I said, placing my arms on the table, crossed closely to my chest as I pulled myself forward. "And I'm not starving. I'm... dieting." I lied through smiling teeth.

He smirked. "Oh _yeah_? And what's, uh, _that_?" He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. "The strict _oxygen_ diet?" He sarcastically asked, pulling my wrist away from my body and upright on the table. He traced lines with his finger up and down the dripped trail of blue stars up my wrist, humming under his breath. I shivered. He looked up at me. " _Personally_? I _like_ my girls with a bit of _meat_ on 'em. Only-ah, _dogs_ go for _bones,_ " I attempted to pull my wrist away from him, but his grip was strong yet tender, not intending on releasing me any sooner. "I'm _not_ tellin' ya to eat 'cause I _care_. I'm, uh, _telling_ you because I'm not letting you turn into a tired old bag o' _bones_ and letting you-ah... _die_ a useless _death_ ," He said, licking his red lollipop teasingly. I rolled my eyes. "I'd rather you _die_ under my, uh, own _hands_ than under my bad _care_. _Y'know_ what I mean?"

"I don't care, I'm _fine_." I quietly snarled, my fist curling up in frustration. He exhaled loudly in annoyance, but I knew he wasn't giving up sooner.

He broke off a corner of a cookie and placed it in my palm. "Just _one_ bite and I'll _never_ bug ya to eat again."

I crushed it in my palm and brushed the crumbs off, preferably leaning over to ensure I got it all in his lap.

The piece of cake. " _C'mon_. I'll-ah, take you to _Disney_."

I threw the piece of chocolate cake aside and onto the floor. I raised my eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes and forced the slice of syrup cake in my hand. "A _million_ dollars."

I threw it at him.

He sighed loudly, brushing all the mess I'd aimed at him off.

"Fine," He said, fed up. He stuck the lollipop in his mouth. " _Fine_."

I smirked to myself and drank more of my herbal tea. I had my ways and I was surprised it worked on him so easily.

I placed my mug down and suddenly he held both of my hands, putting them palms down onto the table. I internally cringed and I wanted nothing to do with him. I was mad, thinking he could just force feed me. _What a douche!_

He popped the lollipop out of his mouth and with a click of his tongue, he grinned. His scars curled up happily but his eyes teased me.

Resting his arms against the table, he leaned forward slowly, and with one hand, cupped my chin and tilted my head up. "What're you-"

"Shh." He mumbled.

My empty stomach churned and I felt myself turn red. _What the hell was he doing?! And in public, too!_

Agonisingly slow, he inched closer and closer, my lips parted with heavy sighs and I fluttered my eyes shut, dreading impact, and before I knew it, I felt contact.

Something was in my mouth.

And it wasn't a tongue.

I heard the Joker giggling and I slowly opened my eyes to see him still centimetres away from my face, grinning like a child. I tasted something sweet in my mouth, like strawberries.

He'd forced the lollipop into my mouth.

By now I was still flustered and blushing, and my stomach tossed in panic. The sweetness of the lollipop made me so hungry, as he twirled the stick between his fingers and turned it on my tongue, sugary flavour dripping over every tastebud. He had a strange concentrated look on his face and he licked his lips, controlling the lollipop from the stick on the outside of my pursed lips. I groaned and sucked the lollipop, revelling in the taste that was too good to try and ignore.

The Joker saw that I was pleased and tore it away from my mouth and I whined in protest. He smirked and without dealing with it any other way, he stuck the lollipop right back into his own mouth, my taste probably still on it. My knees felt numb.

He pushed the snack filled plate towards me again. "Eat."

And I did.

* * *

 _ **SO many innuendos in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed ;')**_


	11. Chapter 11: Wine

**Chapter 11: Wine**

I laid on my bed, listening fondly to my music. Some indie band I'd recently discovered, I think. They were quite good, but for now it was only background noise. Distraction.

I was waiting for mom to leave.

I stared at my wardrobe blandly, cautiously. I was pulled from my gaze when mom walked through my bedroom door- without even knocking- and smiled a little at me. I reached over to the CD player on my desk and turned it down a little, waiting for her to talk.

"Hey," She said quietly, almost timidly. "Uh, I've gotta go to work. I'm working a late shift so I don't think I'll be home tonight- I'm probably going to stay at a friend's or whatever."

I raised my eyebrows. Mom did work just outside of Gotham, so the drive was an hour or two. It wasn't rare that she was late, but it was rare that she decided to stay at a friend's. I glanced at my wardrobe, away from her gaze. _I don't care anyway._

"Okay." I nodded, and she smiled apologetically.

"Stay safe. Keep the house clean. Love you, kiddo." She stepped over and ruffled my hair, kissing me on the forehead. I stifled a grin and she waved, walking out of my room. As she walked down the stairs, I snuck out to the corridor and watched her leave, hearing her shutting the front door with a light slam.

After I was sure she left, I ran back into my room.

"Okay, you can come out now." I said aloud, not being able to hold back the smile of excitement on my face. Sneaking around was fun in its own strange ways, and no matter who it was, it gave me this sense of stepping over the line. I was somewhat pumped with adrenaline. I felt like Juliet, having to hide the secret of Romeo. Only in a non-romantic way. And I despised the Romeo in this case.

My closet doors swung open and the Joker pushed himself out, heaving a sigh of relief. He took a moment to catch his breath and chuckled. "It's, uh, it's _airtight_ in there."

"I told you to go under the bed, though, didn't I?" I rhetorically asked, turning my CD player off. "Besides, you came here at a bad time."

"Well how was _I_ supposed to, uh, _know_ your mom wasn't in work Saturdays until the _night_ , huh?" He raised an eyebrow teasingly and put his hands on his hips. I rolled my eyes at him and watched as he shrugged his jacket off, swinging it over my desk chair lazily.

"You didn't," I answered his rhetorical question with a mutter, walking out of my room, Joker following. "It's just decent to let me know before you decide to break in. Illegally, might I add." I smirked, jogging down the stairs and heading straight towards the kitchen.

" _Illegally_?" He asked, leaning back against the kitchen sink as I went to find some glasses and a bottle of wine. "Do you, uh, think I _care_?"

I sighed. I took the lid off of the bottle and poured myself a glass of wine, sipping from it. "Not really, I guess."

Joker took the bottle and poured himself a glass too, drinking quite a bit at first. He swallowed and crooked his lips. " _Hm_. I've tasted _better_ , but, uh, _nice_ , I suppose."

I scoffed and chuckled, shaking my head. "Sorry, do I look like Bruce Wayne to you? Do I look like I've got the richest wines and cellars chock-a-block full of the finest stuff?" I sarcastically asked, earning a glare from the clown. "Exactly." I said.

"So _snappy_ , little firecracker." He winked, drinking more of his wine. I pursed my lips to stop from smiling and raised my brows, trying to suss out what he was thinking. A while of isolation from him after he'd practically force fed me in the coffee shop did me good. I could clear my head. I felt like I understood his motives a little more, and I was past the point of thinking him as a stranger-stalker. But he was like the devil sitting on my shoulder- I wouldn't really call him a friend.

"You been _eating_ much lately?" He asked, scratching his hair, smacking his lips.

For some reason, the first thing to come out of my mouth was the truth. "I've only had a granola bar today. That was my breakfast." I instantly regretted saying anything, guilt washing over me.

He tutted sarcastically, shaking his head and pouring more wine for the both of us. "Tut, _tut_ , sweets. You need a good, uh, _hamburger_ or two. _Look_ at you! I can practically _see_ your cheekbones _tearing_ through your _skin_!"

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. He grinned, knowing his exaggeration pissed me off. I wasn't even that thin... although you could see my shoulder blades a lot... but I wasn't doing it for looks. I was barely doing it on purpose, I fixed myself on the stressed out emptiness of my stomach so much before that I got used to it, and I could barely eat a full meal without stressing out about not being able to be light enough to run away from him fast enough. I was so stressed that I could barely eat.

"Shut up," I mumbled. "I'm fine, honestly. Yeah, my stomach growls from time to time- that's just my belly cleaning itself out!"

" _Stell_ , there's nothing _to_ clean out."

"It cleaned out that granola bar."

" _C'mon_ , that was like... uh, _twelve_ hours ago," He argued. "D'ya wanna _die_ looking like a _raisin_?"

I tried not to chortle, that was actually kinda funny. I ignored him and took my empty glass and my wine bottle to the living room, setting them both down on the coffee table. I turned the TV on, switching it to the movie channel. Joker slumped himself down on the black leather sofa and shuffled over to make some space for me. He gave me a cocky smirk as he patted the space and I desperately wanted to slap his smile right from his face. Instead, I ignored him and poured myself another glass and sat down, my legs curled up, my toes barely touching his leg. I tried to curl up as tightly as possible to avoid touching him. I sipped my wine and coughed lightly, the taste leaving my tongue a bit tingly.

"So," He smacked his tongue. "We, uh, gonna play _therapy_ tonight?" He asked, a joking smirk on his face. I quickly glanced at him, thinking hard. I could've practiced playing therapy as much as I wanted, but I'd never get any message through his mad head.

"Heck," I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. I sipped some of my wine and then held it tightly, balancing the base on my leg. "Why not."

"Okie dokes," He groaned, positioning himself comfortably. "Ask _away_."

A thought that had been on my mind recently suddenly spilt out of my mouth. "I... want to know about your parents."

His gaze hardened and he glanced away, chewing his fingernail anxiously. "Yeah?" He mumbled, looking away and raising his eyebrows. "What _about_ 'em?"

I watched his body language. He fidgeted like a child and he had a look of silent guilt on his face. It was obvious he didn't want to remember some things, and I was careful to make sure my words were balanced carefully, walking on the thin line between my therapeutic questions and my nosy curiosity. If I was going to practice, I had to be professional.

"Uh..." I sipped my wine. "I want to know what kind of upbringing you had."

" _Upbringing_?"

"Mhm."

Silence screeched throughout the room, except for the television in the background. With Joker's head still tipped down ignorantly, he turned his eyes up to me. He furrowed his brows. "Well. _That's_ a, uh, _funny_ story." He suddenly smiled, tipping his head back up confidently. I found his change of attitude... interesting.

He took a swig of wine and swallowed, motioning to his scars. "What do ya _think_ about them?" He asked me, sticking out his lip in curiosity. He'd changed the subject. I had to play along, I guess.

I swallowed my wine and gazed at them, behind the red paint. I bit my bottom lip in thought and hummed quietly, trying to muster up words.

" _You_ think they're _ugly_." He said, frowning darkly.

I shook my head. "Not really."

"I don't _like_ liars, Stella."

"Neither do I. That's why I'm not a liar," I snapped, leaving him silenced. "Personally, your scars are like your main feature. Not flaw, just your feature. Your one unique feature that tells you apart from the rest," I said, "Y'know, how Marilyn Monroe has her beauty mark?" I said, placing my glass on the coffee table. I lifted my hair up and turned so he could see the back of my neck. "I got a birthmark down my neck," I said, tracing my finger down the red ragged teardrop-like mark. "See?"

" _Ah._ I see it." He said in interest, going out to touch it, but I flinched away, shivering.

"Don't touch me there." I said, frowning.

"Why _not_?"

"I don't like it."

"Oh?" Joker smirked, leaning forward. "Then _where_ , uh, _would_ you _like_ me to _touch_ you, dollface?" He flirted, giving me yet another one of his playful winks. Internally, I sighed and scoffed and rolled my eyes and displayed all signs of disappointment and obnoxiousness and boredom.

"My hand. By your face. Preferably when I slap you." I faked a smile and he snarled.

"Hey. You _know_ I could cut your, uh, _hand_ off faster first."

"Then I'd hit you with my stump," I laughed, hugging my knees to my chest. "Anyway... your scars."

He shook his head to himself and pursed his lips multiple times, as if thinking. "Well-ah, _y'know_. I didn't do them to myself, _obviously_. I'm uh, _crazy_ , but not _that_ nuts."

I took that into consideration. He _was_ fucking nuts. In fact, the thought of him doing it to himself had crossed my mind quite frequently, but I couldn't just ask. So playing therapist once more, I could ask anything as much as I liked.

"Who gave you the scars, Joker?" I asked again, nibbling at my knuckles curiously. He watched me through drooped eyelids, and losing interest, he changed the subject again.

"You should _eat_ ," He insisted, tapping my leg with his foot. I felt a little disappointed _._ "Could you order a, uh, _takeaway_? Been a _while_ since I had one."

Wordlessly, I nodded and reached over to the coffee table, grabbing my phone and dialling the nearest pizza delivery.

The next few hours were surprisingly pleasant, considering I was stuck next to a serial killer. Sometimes the tension was unbearable, heavy and thick, and I felt like one glance and he could've snapped my neck. Gladly though, he was in a good mood and his attitude was somewhat more bearable than most days.

I chewed on my pizza and through a full mouth, I mumbled, "Ever watched A Clockwork Orange?" I asked, looking over to him. He shook his head, nibbling on his slice. He watched my every move, making sure to discreetly push the pizza box further towards me. Honestly, if it weren't for him and the stress he caused me, I would've eaten the whole pizza and maybe the box, too. "It's a good movie. What sorta movies are murderers into, anyway?"

He scowled at the blunt name I'd given him, but his mouth was too full of food to retaliate and argue. He chewed more and swallowed, leaving the pizza crust behind. _So he's one of those people..._

He shrugged. "Don't really _watch_ movies much," He said. "I'm too _busy_ with other-ah, _stuff_."

 _Like killing people._

"Oh," I hummed, my voice a staccato burst of awkwardness. "Well, I think you'd like this movie." I offered, secretly stealing his unfinished crust and stuffing it in my mouth when he wasn't paying attention.

I turned the movie on and I stood, brushing any crumbs on my night shirt and bed shorts off. "I just gotta use the bathroom." I said before I pattered out of the room and up to the stairs, shutting myself in my blue bathroom. Blue tiles, blue towels, blue walls... I wouldn't be surprised if all of the body lotions and shampoos were blue, too (I didn't exactly bother checking the colour much).

I quickly did my business and as I was washing my hands I looked at myself in the mirror, turning my face to different angles. Despite just eating, Joker was right. I was getting quite skinny. I stood in front of the mirror after drying my hands and I put my feet together. I looked at my thighs, cylindrical and thinner than they usually were. I had a decent thigh gap now. I turned to the side and lifted up the bottom of my shirt, observing my stomach. Flat as a pancake. I bit my nails nervously. I could've been unhealthy, but I looked... I looked better. More appealing. Skinnier. It showed off the curve of my hips and the size of my breasts better. _What if..._

No, I _had_ to eat. I wasn't _stupid_.

Walking back into the living room, I saw Joker still sat on the sofa, totally sucked into the movie. He watched with wide eyes and an open jaw and it was strange seeing him so interested in something so normal. I couldn't decipher why or how he felt pleasure from killing people, when watching a dumb movie seemed to have the same entrancing effect.

I grabbed the empty wine glasses and the bottle and brought them to the kitchen, rinsing the glasses out and putting the bottle back in the cupboard. I went back out into the living room and sat back down, eating the last slice of pizza and the leftover crusts.

"Good _girl_." He mumbled, not even looking at me. My stomach churned nervously at how husky his voice was. For some odd reason, it reminded me of the first time he was in my house... me up against the wall... his mouth...

I didn't answer. Just set the empty pizza box aside when I was done.

I wiped my greasy hands in the sofa's arm and turned to him. "Why'd you insist on coming over my house then not doing anything?" I asked, eyeing his scars. His dark eyes looked away from the TV and into mine, mustering up the words to say.

"Uh, I suppose it's _nice_ to just do _nothing_. Y'know?" He said with a tilt of his head. His tongue rolled around in his cheek and he continued, "I'm busy creating _chaos_ all day. Sometimes it just-ah, does the _trick_ to sit down and _relax_ once in a while."

"Can't you do it at home?"

"Can't I do it _here_?"

"Well, it's a bit strange," I said, looking down at my thumbs. "Is it my house or my company you want?" I sarcastically asked, pondering why he couldn't just be normal.

He grinned. "Your wonderful, uh, _company_ and your _undying_ attention. So _satisfying_ , y'know."

I watched the TV.

"I _suppose_ I just, uh, need some human _contact_. _Normal_ human contact. Someone to have make me a _drink_ without having to hold them at, uh, _gunpoint_."

"Mm," I mumbled fondly, seeing his point. "It's sort of your intimidation that makes me do things, though. I think that's a little scarier."

"Do I _scare_ you, sweets?"

I brushed my hair back from my face and stared at him tiredly. "No, not much. It's the thought of you lashing out that scares me, that's all."

He smirked. "You, uh, _really_ shouldn't share your _fears_ with the thing that scares you _most_ , doll."

I raised my eyebrows and blinked. "Really? I think it helps to overcome them. Staring them in the face and telling them 'I don't care'."

He giggled in amusement and sat upright excitedly. "Such a _smart_ girl. You don't get much _smart_ girls. You-ah, get a lotta _stupid_ girls, though," He said. "You? You're _stupidly_ smart."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a _biter_ ," He said with a playful snarl. He spiked my interest and I leaned forward slightly, watching his mouth say the words carefully. So fascinating, all his twitches and winces. "A _smartass_. Getting your own clever way and, uh, yet you _still_ get into trouble. A bit like the, uh, _Batman_. Think you're doing good for the _people_ , but _really_ , you're only doing it for _yourself_. To _redeem_ yourself. And, uh, in the _end_ , you're just leaving _more_ of a mess than you began with. You're treading a _thin_ line, toots. Watch you don't _fall_." He whispered, poking my arm with his finger. I looked at his hands, his long, dextrous fingers and then up his arms, his sleeves rolled up just above his elbows. He had strong arms. You could see the muscles tense and relax as he breathed in and out.

I took his paint covered finger and held it away from me, placing it back in his lap. He raised an eyebrow. I knew something curious was on his mind, but I didn't know what. The thought of not knowing didn't really bother me, so uninterested, I watched the TV closely.

I thought again about his hands. They were somewhat large, and they looked strong. No, I _knew_ they were strong. I was certain he could break my neck with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to. They were also raw and rough, and paint from applying his makeup still remained on his fingers messily, filling the cracks and nicks in his fingerprints and palm. It was strange how expressive he was when making gestures with his hands. The way he extended his fingers and tensed them when he emphasised his words, and how his veins stuck through when he clenched his fists in dry anger and frustration. I still remembered the way he clenched my wrists dominantly, wordlessly reminding me of who I was dealing with. He was right, human contact was rather pleasant if it was with the right person; and despite him being a wrong person, he was _the_ right person to be myself around. I could drop the lies I gave Cassidy when he was around because he had just as much secrets as I did. I think that I could achieve with him what I couldn't with Cassidy or with mom. I could ask the questions and I could be the one controlling the conversation. All my worries became irrelevant because he didn't even care about my problems. He couldn't give any less of a shit about me than he did himself. When had I ever had that? When had I ever had careless company?

I shuddered coldly when I felt a warmth gripping the inside of my knee. I glanced down to see the very hand I'd thought philosophically about hold my leg tenderly and closely, and I looked up to the Joker's face to see his sight stuck on the movie, with no apparent expression on his face.

Feeling my mouth turn dry, I wasn't sure what to do. Did I say something? Did I move away? Did I nonchalantly take his hand and push it off? He'd snap if I rejected him.

Finally finding the courage to speak, I stammered timidly. "What're you doing?"

Reacting to my voice, he slipped his hand further into the space between my calf and my thigh and hummed in amusement. "What?" He asked, looking at me innocently as though he wasn't even touching me. He pressed his fingertips against my thigh and my chest tightened, turning me breathless. "I'm not doing _anything_."

"You're..." I peered back down at his hand quickly and then to him again, a strange feeling in my stomach. Like I was so nervous I was about to throw up or something. It felt like stepping on a glass bridge, looking down into the endless abyss that was his powerful stare.

"Amazing?" He huffed with a smirk. "I _know_." Joker teased, knowing _exactly_ what he was doing.

His hand was warm, against the cold airiness of my skinny leg. I wanted to know just who the hell he thought he was to think he could just abruptly touch me like that, but I already knew why. He was the Joker. He was merciless. He could do whatever he wanted and leave as much of a mess as he wanted. And my pathetic role was to just play along.

He muttered teasingly under his breath and squeezed my legs. "Mmm... see? _So_ much better with a little _weight_ on ya."

"Stop," I whispered, my word an apparent lie. I wasn't fond on the idea of him touching my leg, but his hand radiated some warmth and against the raw coldness of my leg it was a nice feeling. And I felt so guilty that it was him. If it were somebody else, maybe it would've been better... but their hands would be different... they'd feel strange... his hands felt... _nice_. "Why-"

"You _are_ a virgin." He smirked.

"What has that gotta do with anything?"

"You're _shaking_."

"Because a psychopath is fondling my leg." I said.

"But if you shut your _eyes_ and imagine _carefully,_ somebody _else_ would be." He muttered.

"I'm not a whore."

"At least you're _honest_ ," He shrugged, moving his hand away slightly but my body reflexes tensed, and a smirk spread widely across his mouth. "Or hey, _maybe_ I was wrong." He said to himself, and slid his hand back closer. I bit my lip, the feeling of his hand against my skin filling some empty hole that remained in me.

What was I doing?

* * *

 _ **Okay, alright, so this isn't great, I know. Sorry for the wait, I've been to a party and I might have a bit of a hangover lol. Shhh ;) hope you enjoyed!**_


	12. Chapter 12: Drown

**Chapter 12: Drown**

Blue.

My feet stood still and together on the wet, cold tiles at the edge of the swimming pool. I greatly disliked the feeling of the safety ridges that stuck out of the tiles, and I grimaced as I saw the occasional piece of hair or dirt or peeled skin scattered around the filthy flooring. Did they even bother cleaning the pool? I thought, as I then imagined children and adults both, freely pissing their swimsuits at the deep end. Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go in or not.

I wasn't scared, not at all. I had mentioned before that I had a fear of drowning, but that didn't mean I was scared of the water or swimming (in fact, my fear of drowning had motivated me to learn how to swim). I was scared of the concept of drowning, and the feeling like you know you're about to die. If I had to pass, that'd be the worst way to go, along with being buried alive. But of course, I was no stranger to drowning.

The sound of the water swaying and splashing was so familiar to me. It was the sound of inevitable disaster... the gateway straight to hell... a death trap. I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the distant screams of drowning in the back of my mind... the smell of fear almost real to me in that moment. I knew I was all imagining it, but the awful sense of nostalgic despair was too traumatising to forget... a child screaming for her father.

I squeezed my eyes tightly and shook my head, suddenly back in the here and now.

Crossing my arms and clutching them self consciously to my stomach, it growled. _Mustn't eat before I swim, or else I'd get a bad belly_ , I told myself yesterday at two pm. Cassidy wasn't concerned much about my weight or my 'diet', but that was due to me telling her I'd been working out and cutting on carbs. Honestly, I wasn't doing it on purpose. I'd eat a cheeseburger, ice cream and an entire loaf of bread if I wanted to, but I just felt too full even if I had a forkful of spaghetti. _I'll have a salad once I get out of the pool._

Unexpectedly, I heard an enthusiastic giggle and pattering of running feet go past me, and then I witnessed a huge yet skinny splash when I saw a blur of dark hair and tanned skin dive into the pool. I blinked when I felt droplets of water hit my face, and then I saw Cassidy popping her head out of the surface of the water, looking as elegant and aquatic as a mermaid. Cassidy was a real life siren, an angelic mythical being straight from a fairy tail. She was the type of girl 90's feminist grunge bands would write songs about.

"Come on!" She called, waving her pink nailed hand yearningly at me, "Jump in!"

I gazed at my feet, my toes curling in timidly. I glanced around at all the other people here- the pool was actually quite crowded considering it to be 5pm on a Friday. A variety of families and friends were here, mothers and their children down in the shallow end, and more athletic and somewhat young people up in the deep end, where we were. Cassidy turned back and the blue water engulfed her form as she swam, last seeing her toes bubble from the top of the water as she kicked herself in.

Finally, I took a step back and then rapidly neared the edge, extending my arms into a point and diving in, letting the deep blue swallow me whole. I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them, and I looked around me. My light hair flowed in thin tassels, the dip dyed blue ends blending in the water. Around me, it seemed empty. Anywhere further than two feet away faded into deep navy, the thick water hiding anything to give away the illusion of the ocean like feeling. In fact, I just waited for a school of fish or even the Kraken to just ignorantly swim past me. Or perhaps somebody else... a corpse...

Desperate for breath, I kicked myself upwards and brought my neck up and out of the water and took a long gasp of air. I brushed my hair back from my face and I saw myself opposite Cassidy, who was smiling fondly. "Man, this is great," She said nostalgically. "Reminds me of the time I went to the Caribbean... but woah, you should've seen the pool in our hotel there."

I nodded and smiled a little, hating to admit that I wasn't actually interested. I mean, she'd told me the story of the long rectangular pool and how there were bubbles and then how there was a guy...

"And then his pants fell off!" She laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Oh, I wish you could've been there."

Without answering, I held my breath and pushed under, crossing my legs. I sat at the bottom of the pool floor, the ambient sound of drowned out bubbles and the humming of water occupying me. For a moment, I was suspended in time. I was in another realm, in a world millions of lightyears away from this one. The only thing that seemed real here was the crippling anxiety in my stomach as I thought about my situation...with _him_... God, nothing seemed real anymore. I felt like I was part of a book or a movie, and that the writer was manipulating my fate and torturing me, forcing me through all these trials and tribulations until I become brand new. Like my future was all planned out... and all I had to wait for was the plot twist. The moment where everybody's jaw would drop. The second the spotlight would shine on me.

I looked upwards and saw Cassidy's golden legs kicking about to keep her afloat, and then I saw a man's legs. I doubt he was that old. And then she did that thing with her legs, where she flirtatiously crossed one knee over the other, a habit of hers I'd realised not too long ago. I rolled my eyes and blinked through the water- she was flirting. It was funny, she had a boyfriend and she was loyal as hell, and even though I knew her boyfriend by Alex, I'd never actually seen him. Maybe it was long distance or he was busy a lot. Every time I mentioned him in detail, she went quiet.

I never thought much of it.

I needed breath, and I kicked myself up out of the water to heave in much needed air. I looked over to Cass to see her talking and giggling and flirting with quite a good looking guy, probably about a year or so older. He had jet black hair and similar tanned skin to Cassidy, but he had bright blue eyes. Cass caught me observing and she flashed me a smirk and did a secret gesture with her hands, similar to reeling a fishing rod. _Reel 'em in,_ she said with her eyes.

I shook my head and smiled, breathing in again once more before sinking back down. Once my bottom had hit the tile floor, I opened my eyes.

If I wasn't underwater, I would've gasped and choked at who I saw nonchalantly sat in front of me.

 _No. Not now. He's stalking me._

Jesus no, this wasn't real- _this can't be real_. It was too personal, too sudden, too obvious... so cliché. This was the part of the movie where I'd be hallucinating, where I'd think I'd escaped insanity... and I'd be wrong. I'd discover I was insane all along. _This is not real._

The Joker, sat there with a sarcastic and somehow evil grin, stared at me. No makeup, no hair dye, no... shirt? _That's a thought_. He seemed so real. But this... this was impossible. This was unexplainable. This was the one trap that the escape artist could not breakout from. His ways... his stalking... his torture, his very... presence- was unexplainable. His existence was one riddle that no detective could ever solve. Science couldn't explain his creation- his being was one that lived outside of the possibilities of the universe- and Psychology could not cure him. You cannot cure something that is not a person. You cannot cure corruption, you cannot cure death, in the same way you cannot cure peace, life- chaos. He _was_ the personification of chaos. He was not human. He was something far more magnificent. Something that was beyond God's handiwork, and something that the devil himself could not contain. The Joker was simply here to exist, to let everyone _know_ he exists, and there was no explanation why.

And that's why I was aghast at the sight of him sat there in that pool- because there was no explanation of how he was there. He was simply... present.

Once the sight before me became clear to me and I'd come to my senses, my eyes widened and I had to get out. I desperately kicked up from the tiles, but to my dread, a strong hand curled around my ankles. I stifled a scream as I tried to hold my breath for longer.

My fears were coming alive. I was going to drown. No, not like this, I couldn't die like this- drown like this, not again. The girl's voice in the back of my head screamed, cried, sobbed, wept, mewling _daddy, wake up!_ I knew the taste of drowning, I just hadn't quite had the full dose yet.

The Joker was pulling me down, his grip like an anchor. I struggled against his hand and I panicked, kicking and thrashing about. I managed to kick him hard in the neck, making him yell out abruptly as bubbles escaped his mouth. I gave him a wide eyed glare of _what the fuck do you think you're doing_ and forced myself up, even if it meant taking me with him. I was not drowning. Not today.

As soon as my nose touched the surface, Joker's hand slipped from my ankle and I craned my neck out, taking in rapid and panicked gasps. I felt like I'd evaded death, and my escape was _beautiful_. Cassidy turned to look at me but before I'd really noticed I swam to the edge of the pool, pulling myself out and walking speedily to the changing rooms. I wasn't letting anyone seeing me so vulnerable.

I locked myself in a bathroom stall and through gasps and tight breaths of panic, I cried. I sobbed tearlessly. My pain was on the inside, and it was so great, it made me show nothing on the outside. My emotion at that moment was like a sponge, sucking all of my tears back under my skin, and I simply cried without shedding a single tear. It was the crying that was physically agonising. It was the crying where my lungs felt like they were collapsing, and my body just simply shook. The crying that could not be seen on the outside. It was very selfish of my body, really. All the pain was on the inside, where nobody could see, where nobody could notice. I had no evidence that the Joker was on my tail, because I simply didn't have the tears to show for it. I felt so betrayed by my body, like the only thing not under the Joker's control was my mind, and yet I was losing that, piece by piece... my sanity slowly becoming a mere memory.

 _That's what you get for trusting a murderer._

I tried to regain my steady breaths, but my heart was hammering in my chests and my lungs were tightening. With shaky hands, I counted the fingers on my hands, eight and two thumbs. I'd had a panic attack before, and counting, I'd been told, helped.

1... 2... 3... 4...

I coughed heavily and stopped counting. I leant forward and with my hands on my knees, I counted my breaths.

It'd been so long... I was doing so well... I hadn't had a heart wrenching breakdown like this since the situation outside my psychology class. I think I was really starting to lose it...

Eventually sorely breathing evenly, I made my way out of the bathroom stall.

Cassidy stood there, head bowed sorrowfully. "Stella... are you okay?"

I nodded silently, not able to get a word in sideways as I focused on breathing above all else.

"What happened?" She asked, her eyes full of guilt.

I desperately thought of an excuse. "I... tipped upside down and I needed... I needed to breathe."

"It's all my fault," She said, pulling me into a tight, wet hug. "I should've watched you."

I smiled sympathetically, shaking my head. "It's not your fault, don't worry."

 _Trust me, it's not your fault._

"I suppose... I suppose you're going home early, then?" She asked, getting our belongings from the locker we used.

"Yeah," I said, then mumbled under my breath, "You bet your ass I am."

On the taxi cab drive home, I was alone. But not for long. I stared angrily out of the window, planning with just how many objects I could slap the Joker with once I'd found him. What the hell was he thinking? Honest to God, I regretted getting on that bus when I met him.

As the taxi pulled up into the driveway, I thanked the driver and got out. And the first thing I saw was my bedroom curtains open mockingly, like he'd done it on purpose. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and it was working. I snarled under my breath and stormed towards the front door, violently swinging it open. I slammed it shut.

"Alright, where are you?" I yelled, my voice reaching every corner of every room. I pushed the living room door open and looked inside, kicking around the sofas and stamping on the floor. "C'mon, I know you're here." I said loudly, looking in the kitchen. He wasn't there.

I heard giggling from upstairs. The fucker was in my room.

I jogged up the stairs and went into my bedroom, my first instinct to throw the wardrobe door open.

He... wasn't there.

 _Holy shit._ Was I going crazy? I could hear him laughing... maybe... maybe he wasn't even at the pool. Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe-

"Is _this_ how you treat your _guests_ , doll? I figured you'd be a _little_ more, um... _welcoming_." Joker's voice taunted from behind me, and I spun around. He stood there, his hair damp with no makeup on. He wore his suit though, and his infamous grin. His stupid grin. His shit-faced, malicious, disgusting grin. I just wanted to slap-

I brought my hand back and slapped him right across the face. Hard. I knew it was dangerous. I knew I was performing a balancing act between life and death. I knew he'd break my skull under his heel. I knew he'd murder me in cold blood, but Jesus Christ- he'd played me around far too much, and it was getting ridiculous. He nearly drowned me, and I was so sick and tired of his games.

I brought my hand back, instantly seeing a red hand shaped mark form on his face. Heck, even my hand stung.

We were both speechless for a moment, the Joker with a wild, fiery glare. Then he actually stared at me, stared right into my eyes, burning holes into my very soul and he looked _mad_.

I realised I'd sparked the ignition that could very well have been my demise. I stepped back, holding up my hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please-" Before I could take another breath, he took a deathly vice grip on both of my wrists and pinned me violently against the wall, my head hitting back on it. I yelped in agony and I tried to get away, but his body pressed up against mine, barely letting me breathe. "Stop it!" I screamed. "Let go!" I begged, struggling my arms under his hands. All he did was press closer.

"I think you're getting a little _too_ clever. _Fuckin_ ' about willy nilly." He grumbled darkly and cruelly, striking almost as much fear in me as he did when I was drowning...

I was fuming. "You nearly drowned me!" I accused with a scream of frustration.

"I was seeing if you were _scared_ of me or _not_ -ah." He smacked his tongue right against my ear, causing me to shake. "But _no_ , you're still as _stubborn_ as ever. Too _willing_ to trust _me_ , I think."

"I think I'd be terrified if a goddamn _fly_ tried to drown me! I'd be scared if _anybody_ tried to drown me, you freak!"

He shook me hard, and I squeezed my eyes shut. " _Don't_ call me a freak!" He yelled angrily, causing me to feel flat out raw terror for the first time in my life. My breath wavered and we were both heaving deeply from shouting. I'd never been so scared of a person's voice before. His was gravelly and deep and outright scary, black temper oozing from his tongue.

My mouth widened slightly in shock. Silence passed between us apart from our thick, heavy breathing and not wanting to see his face anymore, I shut my eyes, but I was in store for worse things.

His hand gripped me tightly and all of a sudden, a hot, heavy warmth was on my lips and it was with no mistake his own. He was _kissing_ me.

My eyes widened and I struggled reluctantly, letting out a quick gasp of surprise.

What the _fuck_ was he doing?!

And he didn't just press his lips up against mine, no, he was _moving_ them to try and get me to open up. He was kissing me for the sake of _kissing_ me, not to try and shut me up. I hated that so much. And I hated it more that I liked how soft his lips were, and how he tasted like sweet alcohol. It was a mix between wanting to taste him but wanting him to stop it. Kissing was heaven, but kissing _him_ would drag me straight to hell.

But curiously, I experimented, moving my mouth against his to see if he'd react. And he did, one hand moved away from my wrists and down to my neck, holding me tightly in place.

And then it came to me, I felt like I was drowning again. I whined throatily and used my now free hands to push against his chest, thumping and beating his stomach until he yanked himself away.

Joker pulled away and gave me a confused glare. " _What_?" He grunted.

"Are you _kidding_ me?!"

"What?!"

"You're just gonna throw me about and try to drown me and now you're going to _make out_ with me?!"

" _What_ do you _mean_?!"

"What are you _doing_?!" I hissed, unknowingly licking my lips as he did the same. We both breathed heavily, a tense pause lingering in the air.

Then he squinted his eyes, as confused as I was. "Uh, you _kissed_ me."

"What?!" I shouted. " _You_ kissed _me_!"

" _You_ shut your eyes and leant _in_!" He argued, both of us driven with confusion, anger and hormones. " _I_ thought you were gonna _kiss_ me!"

I shoved him away from me in stubborn shock and growled in high frustration. "Do you think I'm that desperate?!"

"Wow, _offensive_." He scoffed, crossing his arms.

I took a deep breath and calmed down. "Listen, I-I don't know what kind of fucked up mentality you have to think I'd kiss my stalker, but-"

"You kissed back." He smirked, all of a sudden proud of what he'd done.

I had no excuse for that, truthfully. "I was scared you were gonna snap my neck if I didn't." I swallowed.

Stressfully, he paced around. I secretly wiped my mouth in the sleeve of my hoodie and set a hand on my forehead. Joker sat himself on my bed and landed with a sigh.

"Well, _fuck_." He carelessly hummed in despair.

"Yeah, _fuck_." I sarcastically agreed, sliding down the wall and to the floor to sit against it.

"What _now_?" He asked.

I shook my head and shrugged. "I don't know," I blandly said, "I think... I think you should leave me alone for a while."

"I need my _therapy_." He said, his eyes widening in madness and desperation.

I snorted once and laughed. "I'm not a fucking therapist. Get a real one. You _stalk_ me. Damn me for saying I need a break for once."

" _Sugar_ , in case you _forgot_ ," He said, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, "I _own_ you."

"Well, put your little trophy on the shelf for once." I gave him a sullen glare, hugging my knees to my chest. My heart hurt and I wasn't sure if I could say another word without bursting into confused tears and desperate sobs.

He tutted. "How _long_?"

"A week, at least."

"What about at _most_?"

I glared.

"The rest of my life."

* * *

 _ **Hurray, two chapters! Lol, if you were expecting a cliché 'you kissed me and suddenly I'm in love with you' scenario, then you've come to the wrong place. Just a brief warning then- if I make a quick turn and all of a sudden they're totally in love and Joker's acting OOC, you have all rights to scoff at and blame me. xD**_

 _ **Soooo, a lot of talk about drowning and her father... any ideas**_ _ **?**_


	13. Chapter 13: The Agenda

**Chapter 13: The Agenda**

My mom strode proudly into the living room, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore a tight fitting red dress, which pushed up her sorrowfully semi saggy chest and these red heels which made her seem taller. She'd applied seductive red lipstick, and dark shadowy eye makeup. It was enough for me to take off my headphones and put down my book as she gave a little twirl to me and placed a hand on her hip.

"What do you think?" She asked, grinning.

"Where are you going?" I asked. Lately, I felt like I'd barely seen her anymore.

"A... party. With my co-workers," She slowly said, her answer sounding like more of a question. "It's a job thing."

I knew she was lying, but I didn't dare question it. She had a smile on her face and I supposed that was as good as any lie she told me, although I did find her disloyalty a little offensive. So, spitefully, I returned a lie back.

"You look great, mom." I smiled, my lying tongue hiding behind my smiling cheeks. The poor middle aged woman was dressing like a teenager, and I felt dreadful to think it did _not_ look good.

She giggled. "I most likely won't be back by tonight. I'll stay over a friend's." She said carelessly, checking herself out in the mirror.

I frowned, a weight full of rejection sitting on my shoulders. "I thought we were gonna get food at the Bistro tomorrow morning."

She hissed problematically through her teeth and shook it off with a laugh. "Eek! I forgot. Oh, sweetheart, I'll be hungover. I'll take you next weekend."

I put my headphones back on and shrugged, picking my book back up again. "Whatever." I grumbled.

My music was loud enough to block out her words and all I saw were gestures and smiles as she waved, walking out of the door and into the night. If I didn't enjoy my own company as much, I'd say I felt neglected.

And then the front door clicked shut.

I was planning to be alone, but instead, looking down at my contacts list, I texted the person I swore to myself I'd only ever ask for if I were in a dire situation, as a last resort. I hesitated, I honestly tried, but yearning itched at me. It'd been a week and five days, and I needed to vent out to someone before I burst, someone to control how many drinks I had or hold my hair whilst I threw up (which I knew he wouldn't do) in worst cases.

I pressed the call button and took my headphones out, holding my ear to my phone. The receiving beeps cracked through and I waited, anxiously nibbling on the sleeve of my fondly worn turtleneck. To think I hated wearing them at one point.

"Hellooo- _ah_?" Joker's comical voice playfully rang through in a sing song voice, and I bit my lip.

"Listen, I know I, um... I know I wanted you away from me and all but... I'm... lonely. Uh... could you come over?" I hesitantly asked, my shyness evident. "I..." I thought my next words carefully. "I need careless company."

"Well, _look_ who came _crawling_ back! Ain't _this_ a _surprise_? _You_ want to see _me_ and _you're_ asking _me_ for permission- well I'll be _damned_ ," He teased, then cleared his throat. "What about your _mom_?"

I gritted my teeth. "Went out."

" _Y'know_ , it sounded like you didn't even wanna see me _dead_ last time we, uh, _hung out_ ," He sighed and groaned loudly in thought, and I could imagine his scars stretch as he pursed his lips. "Okay, okay, _alright_. I'll be over in a while," He said. "Oh, and if you've got a _gun_ ready to shoot me in the face, I advise you put it _down_ , princess. I, uh, _dodge_ bullets _quicker_ than you think. And you'll be damn _sorry_ you missed."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of me instead managing to stick a bullet right between his eyes, but his threat was rather startling all the same. "Hurry or I'll start drinking without you." I joked, and I heard him begin to giggle loudly, but he ended the call midway before he burst into hysterics.

I put my headphones aside on the coffee table and placed my book face down on the page I was on. I stared in the mirror and quickly tied my hair up into a messy ponytail, heading towards the kitchen. I got out a bottle of my Vodka and didn't bother to get any glasses, just headed back into the living room to place the bottle down on the glass coffee table before heading back and getting a small snack to eat while I waited.

Joker's absence also made it easier for me to eat again, but I was watching what I was eating. No more ice cream with Game of Thrones, I suppose. Instead, I took a liking to fruit salads, and peaches. Loved my peaches.

It wasn't long before I was pacing around the house, waiting for at least a knock on the door or just waiting for it to open right up. I pondered at how he'd react. Would he kill me? Be happy to see me? Awkward? Somewhat disappointed? Throw me up against the wall and kiss me again?

I cringed at the memory and grimaced, but refused to admit that I'd actually earlier come to my senses and realised that the kiss wasn't all that bad. We just weren't in a good time or a good place, keeping in mind that he'd almost killed me beforehand. But that scared me- I'd forgiven that he'd kissed me. Not that he actually physically kissed me, but most importantly the fact that it was _him_ and not anybody else who did it. That worried me.

Hearing the much anticipated discreet ring of the doorbell, I skipped on over to the door and opened it, actually quite eagerly.

The Joker stood there in his uniform and makeup, but his hair seemed browner rather than green and you could see his paint was definitely worn out.

He grinned. "Hello, I'd like to _talk_ to you about our lord and _saviour_ , Jesus Christ." He joked comedically in a strangely mocking accent and I rolled my eyes, stepping aside for him to come in.

"I'm not religious, but thanks." I retorted and shut the door once he was in. He took a look around for some reason, as if trying to see if anything had changed in my home at all, then he looked at me.

"So," He hummed. "What _is_ tonight's _agenda_?" He clicked his tongue, taking his jacket and gloves off and hanging it up on the coat rack, discarding his gloves to the floor by the shoes.

"Oh, y'know," I shrugged. "Watch movies. Eat pizza. Do blindfolded makeup and then maybe braid each others' hair and talk about boys," I sarcastically smiled, walking into the living room, Joker following closely behind. "I got more drinks if you want some. I'm just pity drinking, so you can have your own if you want." I offered, gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Well, uh, _thanks_ for the offer, toots, I'll get some _now_." He said, heading towards the kitchen.

"No, I'll get it." I insisted, but he scoffed, looking at me.

"I, uh, _know_ your _drinks_ cabinet better than the back of my _hand_. _Sit_." He said with a smirk, "And _stop_ being so _kind_. It, uh, _doesn't_ suit you." He grinned before turning back out to the kitchen, humming lightly to himself.

I sighed contently and slumped down onto the leather seats, turning the TV on for background noise. I took my bottle of Vodka and unscrewed the top, instantly drinking half a mouthful. I squinted my eyes and tensed my tongue as the sour liquor swam like lava down my throat; hot and raw. Joker eventually came back, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

He sat next to me lazily and popped open his bottle, drinking from it just as quickly as I had. He clicked his tongue afterwards and smiled at me. I, unknowing on what to do, smiled back.

"I've been _meaning_ to _ask_ , doll..." Joker began.

"Mhm?"

"Vodka, uh, how d'ya _drink_ it straight from the _bottle_ with your _liver_ still intact?"

I shrugged, drinking more. "Beats me. I like it strong."

Joker paused as he looked me over. "Looks like _you've_ , uh, been _eating_ lately," He commented, drinking. "Atta _girl_."

I smiled. "I'm a little better, yeah. How's destroying the city going?" I joked.

He smacked his lips in thought. "Uh, _yeah_ , pretty good- _ooh_ , it's me! Watch the TV now." He pointed, sheer excitement in his voice.

The news was on, and the reporter quickly warned of graphic horror violence that was about to show up on their preview clip.

 _"Tell them your naaame."_

I shuddered and looked over to the Joker, him grinning like a child on Christmas morning. I looked back to the screen. Joker'd had this poor fat guy tied up to a chair, wearing a fake Batman suit and the guy honestly looked like he needed his brown pants.

 _"Are you the real Batman?"_ His voice comically asked between the crackling of cameras, crazy and raw laughter in his voice. The fat man answered a fear and regret filled 'no' before the Joker laughed. _"No? No- then why'd you dress up like him, huh?"_ He asked, taking off his rubber mask and waving it around, cooing agonisingly teasingly.

I couldn't help but glance at the Joker in my real life again, seeing the famous criminal psycho on the news sat next to me, cross legged and smiling innocently wearing miss-matching diamond socks. On TV, he was an absolute freak. And now, sat next to me was this goofy pervert with anger issues, drinking with me. _Strange_.

 _"Look at me,"_ He said in a hushed tone, and the man's head remained bowed _. "LOOK AT ME."_

I winced at his predator like growl, a type of voice I'd never heard in all my (nearly) eighteen years. I turned back to the man sat next to me. Even to me, I'd never heard him yell like that. It actually terrified me.

 _"Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in,"_ He darkly demanded, then his eyebrows raised. _"Oh, and every day he doesn't, people will die. Starting tonight. I'm a man of my word."_ And with a smack of his lips, the Joker erupted into mad fits of laughter, the camera dropping to the floor, and all that remained to be heard was the poor man's dying screams, and it cut to black.

In reality the Joker turned to me, an elated grin on his face. "Huh? So, uh, pretty _good_ , right?"

Knowing a negative comment would most likely drive his fist into my face, I drank my drink. "You're, um... very theatrical," I said with cautious thought, peering down at the clear liquor in my bottle. "So... you're actually gonna kill people... every day?"

" _Yup_." He popped, with no remorse in his smile as he swallowed some more whiskey. My stomach sank at his choice and I knew he wasn't lying. Nervously, I drank again.

"Um..." I piped up, causing the Joker to attentively look at me. "I... I wanted to talk." I nearly avoided asking, but curiosity spilled out of my mouth like venom. He raised a brow.

"Uh. 'Bout _what_?"

I bit my lip.

"Your scars."

All was silent and I got déjà vu from the last time we'd sat and drank together. I'd asked him this very same question before, sorta.

He sighed uneasily, positioning himself so he was comfy. Leaning back into the sofa, he narrowed his eyes.

"What _about_ 'em?"

My curiosity had gotten the best of me.

"I... want to touch them."

Silence again.

He scoffed with laughter. " _Excuse_ me?"

"I'm curious," I truthfully admitted, imagining the feeling of them under my fingers. "Are they rough or soft? And do they hurt?"

"Well-"

"That's why. Can I?" I shyly stammered, biting my tongue.

Joker glared. "I am, uh, _not_ a _freak show_ _attraction,_ Stell-uh. I may _look_ the part, doll, but I _ain't_."

"Sorry," I said quickly, and dropped the question, drinking more. I shook my head. "Actually, no, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it." I tried to pretend as though I hadn't asked in the first place, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to reach out and touch them, run my thumbs up against the marred skin and wondrously watch as the curious cat in me came back to life.

But I shrugged it off as though it were nothing.

Awkward and tense silence fogged the air again, and I sipped my drink loudly, cringing. Joker sighed impatiently and held out both his hands, reaching for my wrists. I placed my bottle down and turned myself around to sit facing him, and he took the back of my hands into his palms and yanked them forcefully to his face, holding my hands in place tightly. And I touched his scars.

" _Curiosity_ killed the _cat_ , Stell. Lucky _I_ don't kill you _faster_." He mumbled to me, but all I could focus my attention to were his scars.

At first, I grimaced at the odd feeling of cold paint under my fingers, but the more my thumbs moved against the tainted flesh, the more I got used to it. His scars weren't exactly as I'd guessed, they were soft and far more tender than his hands were, and surprisingly almost just as smooth as his lips were... but I didn't think about that right now.

" _So_?" He forced his voice out with an impatient spit. "How'd they _feel_?"

The pads of my thumbs caressed the smooth skin and I pursed my lips. "Soft."

He didn't respond much, but when his scars creased and crinkled with a fond smile, I stared at him with questioning eyes, surprised at his reaction. "It, uh, _tickles_ a little. Feels kinda _nice_ actually," He released a light chuckle of anxiousness and his smile dropped, and so did his hands. Mine stayed on his face to tend to his scars, my tongue sliding across my top lip in thought. " _God_ , I'd _pay_ you to _do_ that _all day_." A soft groan swam up his throat and his eyes closed contently, yet not a smile was present. But he didn't snarl or scoff or frown, or even pull away, which I was partly thankful for.

"You like it?" I asked, suddenly shy at his reaction and maybe wanting to pull away before anything escalated and got out of hand, but I couldn't. He was calm. He was quiet. He was _satisfied_.

He released a single, shrill giggle of delight and lightly nodded, eyes still closed. Joker hummed quietly under his breath, as though he tried to hide every sigh and pleasured groan he let out. I was revelling in the answer to my curiosity and he was revelling in the feeling. It was somewhat of a fair bargain. And his scars felt... nice.

He opened a single eye and looked at me. He asked, "Could... uh... could you do this more _often_?"

Stunned that _he_ was asking _me_ for favours, I obediently and somewhat eagerly nodded at his approval. I was sure it'd take away the satisfying feeling from me, since now my question was answered, but if he liked it and it kept him quiet, who was I to say no?

He smiled and shut his eyes again, the background noise of the TV eventually fading out into hazy nothingness. My thumbs still slowly and patiently traced up and down, wondering if maybe this was his sweet spot. His dare I say it- turn on spot. I was surprised he hadn't broken my fingers for asking, or instead for setting my hands on him wrong. I'd perhaps expected him to just endure it whilst I prodded and poked at him, but no, he was asking for _more_.

Joker abruptly groaned aloud in ecstasy and I saw him clench his fingers around the fabric of his jeans tightly. I was surprised to hear such a noise leave him like that. It was desperate, and pleasured. It also made me feel a bit lightheaded, like this were far much more than just a lazy kiss against the wall, far more than a dream.

With no warning, his head suddenly dropped forward into my lap, and light snores bubbled from his chest. Just like that. My gut tightened and my head turned cold.

He'd fallen asleep- out like a light. I'd lulled him to sleep with just my thumbs!

"Holy shit." I whispered.

 _I tamed the Joker_. Oh, how I wanted to scream it off a rooftop and share it with the world, that I found his weak spot and I was the first one to ever get him practically on his knees, obeying my every command. I was like the Pied Piper and he was a simple rat, destined to just follow my lead.

But no. Pride only in return gave me guilt, and I decided to let the bastard sleep. I never knew how much sleep he got, and I didn't want to find out what side of the bed he woke up on if he did get any. I, myself, was a little of a grumpy riser, and I wasn't exactly an early bird.

Reaching over for the remote, I turned the TV off, and stretching out for my book, I was careful not to stir the clown who slept in my lap. I flicked to my last page and resumed my reading, most likely eventually dozing off, for I couldn't remember any more.

* * *

Light seeped through my eyelids and my senses adjusted to my surroundings. The warm feeling of skin, the smell of gunpowder and gasoline, the taste of alcohol and... the sound of laughter.

I groaned lethargically and twitched, feeling my hand in someone's hair. Another giggle.

I forced my eyes open and the first thing I saw was a book on the floor. My book. The giggles came from the scarred mouth of a man who was crazy, and who had the night before, fallen asleep on my lap.

"Wakey _wakey_ ," Joker sung as I adjusted my eyes on him. His head was still in my lap, but instead of my hand holding a book, it was buried in his tinged green locks, and immediately, I pulled it away. He laughed. "You _sleep_ funny."

I never thought I'd be glaring at a murderous clown first thing Thursday morning, but that seemed to be the case that morning. "Wow. Honestly, that's _great_. Truly flattering."

" _One_ day, Stell, _sarcastic_ words will be your _last_." He reached up his hand and playfully pinched my cheek, which I swatted away impishly.

"Well, at least I'll go out with my pride strong and a witty remark for people to remember me by. God knows this world needs lightening up." I sighed, yawning. _He knows that more than anybody._

He nodded. We stared around in silence before he pondered, "I fell _asleep_ last night, _didn't_ I?"

I nodded and fondly smiled, the sound of his amused groan still fresh in my mind. Joker stared blandly at me and huffed.

"Maybe I should touch you more often," I teased, me being the one to wink slyly at him this time. He smirked and cupped my chin, bringing my face downwards expectantly, but I nonchalantly laughed and pushed him away. "Nice try, I was just kidding." I grinned, pushing him off of me and getting up. I stretched, my arms loosening and my back clicking. I hummed in delight as I picked up my book, ignoring the sideways glance Joker stared right at me, practically eating my figure with his hungry stare. I took the alcohol bottles and left the room.

I pattered over to the kitchen, putting the drinks back where they belonged. I was in the middle of making myself a cup of tea when Joker walked in, making himself quite at home by leaning back against a counter right beside me, all as if he owned the place. I raised an eyebrow at him and tried to hold a stare with him, but I eventually looked down in defeat. He was just too... I couldn't put my finger on it. Not intimidating, teasing.

Joker tutted at me. "So _reserved_."

"For what? For _you_?" I sarcastically cooed, pouring the boiling water into my Star Wars mug, that wasn't actually mine, but my mom's. I wasn't really one for sci-fi.

He chuckled. " _Hopefully_. Y'know, your _hands_ could go _better_ places than just my, uh, _gorgeous_ _face_ , doll."

I smirked, pouring a little bit of milk into my tea and stirred it around, my spoon lightly clinking against the edges of the mug. "Like where?"

His hand slipped around my wrist and held it gently, but the smirk on his face knew that where he wanted me to go wasn't as innocent. "Wanna _find_ out?" He grinned, but I pulled away, smiling daintily.

"I'm good." I said, before sipping my tea and checking the clock.

" _Shame_ , 'cause-"

I nearly spat out my tea. "It's twelve thirty in the afternoon!" A dreadful feeling sank through my guts.

"Yeah? _And_?"

"I missed school!" I cursed, giving myself a light slap on the head with my palm. "Aw, Jesus!"

Joker scoffed, resting both of his hands either side of me against the counter, shutting me in. But his somewhat unwanted company wasn't my concern. My concern was that Mrs. Addams was gonna be pissed that I couldn't give my stupid presentation on why this one character's eyes were apparently 'green with envy'. She'd take a whole grade away just out of spite, probably. Her and her fucking colour representations, I swear...

Joker groaned tiredly and hushed me as if I were a child. I held the warm mug of tea closely to my palms, resting my chin against the rim of the mug. "Shush, shush, _shuuush_ ," He insisted, and tucked a strand of platinum hair behind my ear. I held back a shiver. "School _schmool_ ," He smiled at his own corny joke, while all I could do was hide mine behind my mug as I drank more tea. "Only thing you learn _there_ is how to think of _different_ , uh, _ways_ to _off_ yourself." He licked his lips and with me still trapped between his arms, I looked up at him and challengingly, momentarily raised my brows before drinking more tea.

I swallowed it and took a breath. "Okay, but y'know. I care about my future, unlike you. I don't think I wanna resort to stealing money and everything else like _somebody_ I know." I said, referring to him. He chuckled lightly and shrugged.

"I didn't even _go_ to college. I turned out _fine_." Joker beamed, as if he were proud of the fact.

I giggled. "And that says a lot, doesn't it?" I couldn't help but smile, the apples of my cheeks crinkling happily.

He grinned. "Was that a _giggle_?" He teased me, tilting his head. "Uh, I _never_ thought I'd hear Miss Moody _laugh_ like that," He poked my sides, smirking. "Wish I had that on _tape_. Won't see _that_ for _God_ knows _how_ long."

I rolled my eyes and with my free hand, gently pushed him away, allowing me to walk out of the kitchen. I made my way into the living room and turned the TV on, switching it to Nickelodeon.

Joker sat on the leather sofa and chuckled at me. "Cartoons? _Really_?"

"Hey," I warned, placing my tea down on the coffee table. "Just because you crashed here doesn't mean I'll break my routine of watching SpongeBob in my free time," Then I changed the subject. "I'm gonna go and put some decent clothes on. Don't come in my room, and if you do, _please_ knock." I said, to which he ignorantly nodded, finding a stray magazine to fiddle and flick through.

I made my way upstairs and into the bathroom, and did my business, then washed my face, which participated greatly in the role of _actually_ waking me up. Then, I went to my room to put on a comfy pair of skinny jeans and a shirt, only to pull a baggy hoodie on over the top of it. I figured my hair stayed fine in my ponytail, so then I jogged back downstairs.

I walked in the living room to see Joker where I'd left him, reading a magazine on the sofa. I let out a sigh of relief. Plopping down next to him, I drank my tea and flicked through my book.

Joker's voice caught my attention. "You should, uh, _wear_ your hair _up_ like that more _often_."

I looked at him and consciously touched back to tighten my ponytail. "Oh," I said, smiling a little bit. "Thanks." He always seemed to like my hair up.

"Yeah."

Comfortable silence was exchanged as he thought to himself, muttering under his breath. "Hey, you think Bats'll _show_ himself?"

I shuffled about in my seat and shrugged. "I don't know. Do you want him to?"

He clicked his tongue, chuckling softly. "Now, see, _that's_ the _funny_ thing. If he did it'd be so... uh, _boring_. I mean, he gives _up_ , then where's the _fun_ in _that_? _He_ doesn't want me to know... _I_ don't want me to know. He'll _ruin_ my little, uh, _game."_

I inattentively hummed, totally drowned in my book. "Yeah, I know."

Joker sighed. "You're not even _listening_ , _are_ you?"

"Yeah," I said in monotone. He tutted impatiently and snatched my book away from me, causing me to whine as I reached for it. "Hey!" I argued, reaching over his lap to try and reach it, but ultimately failing to reach and falling, lying belly down over on his lap. I looked as though I was ready for a spanking, and I was sure he just marvelled at the idea.

Joker placed his arms on my back to ensure I couldn't move and only then did he give me my book. I snatched it and flicked through the pages, trying to look for where he'd caused me to miss.

"Mmm," He hummed. "So where's _your_ sweet spot, princess? _Hm_?" He flirtatiously asked, his hands playing with my pony tail. "It's only-ah, _fair_ , since you know _mine_."

"I know yours because I asked politely," I answered in a soft tone, my mind more focused on his words and upcoming actions, which sort of put me off my book. "Maybe if you say please, I'll tell you."

Joker giggled. " _Nah_. Where's the _fun_ in _that_?" He asked, his finger sliding experimentally down my neck. "Puzzles are _so_ much more _satisfying_ when you find the answer _yourself_. Ah, don't _worry_. I don't _bite_."

I smirked. "Much."

"Yeah, just you _watch_."

Just as his hands were about to reach for my upper back and I held my breath, I heard the front door lock begin to click. Joker's hands stayed stock still and I craned my neck upwards, watching the front door closely. Then my eyes widened and I gasped.

"Shit, it's my mom." I whispered.

"Ah, _damn_." He groaned and I got up off of him, urging him up the stairs.

"Stay in my room and don't make a sound." I half mouthed, half whispered to him as he ran up the stairs as quietly as he could. I looked at the fat red door in anticipation, fumbling my hands anxiously.

It finally opened and in walked my mom, her hair all scraggly like sticky straw and her red dress stained with wine. She jumped at me being so near to the door and held her hand to her chest. "Jesus, Stell, I thought you were at school," She said, shutting the door. Then she came to her senses and shot me a look. "...I thought you were at school."

I apologetically half smiled and gritted my teeth. "I forgot to set my alarm and I woke up late," I said, my words as fake as her cheap nails. "Don't you have work tonight?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Yeah, I do. Means I'll be sleeping all day."

I lowered my eyes. "I never see you, mom. It's like you're barely here." I complained, when in secret, I was never alone and I _much_ preferred it when she was absent.

She smiled and scoffed. "Aw, kiddo, I'm here on Sundays, though, aren't I?" She said, rubbing my shoulders in a very mother-sort-of-way, donning a special type of accent only moms could bare. "Tell you what. Sunday, we'll have a girls' night out, just you and me. Whatever you wanna do."

I bit my lip. "Well... I kinda wanna see that movie. Y'know, with Tom Cruise in it."

Mom grinned tiredly and raised her arms once and back down to her sides in gladness. "Okay, then, we'll do just that."

I grinned and as she walked past me into the living room, I glanced up the stairs, paranoid. I turned around to see Joker's fucking jacket still hung up on the coat rack next to the front door with his gloves and I internally screamed. _She could've seen that!_

I grabbed the jacket and gloves and ran halfway up the stairs to chuck them into the corridor for Joker to collect after. I sighed stressfully and made my way into the living room, hoping to God there was no trace of him.

But I was wrong.

She pointed at a stain on the sofa and stared at me with an unimpressed glare. "What is that?" She demanded, pointing at the white streak of greasepaint. I swallowed hard. "Have you been painting? I told you to-"

"Put down plastic covers, I know, sorry." I babbled, rushing over to wipe the stain off.

She huffed under her breath and left for the kitchen, and then I heard the kettle go. I took this chance and sprinted up the stairs, making a beeline towards my bedroom. I was a little confused at what I saw; the Joker, with one leg out of my window.

I cleared my throat and narrowed my eyes in curious astonishment. "What're you doing?"

" _Oh_ \- uh..." He took a moment to get himself out of the window and he bumped his knee, to which I snorted a giggle. I covered my mouth immediately and he gave me a death stare; I straightened myself up, leaning back to shut the door. "I was _about_ to, uh, _leave_." He drawled, as though it were obvious. I shuffled my feet awkwardly and sucked my lip.

"Thanks," I blurted out, my inner cliché teenage girl showing me up, "For coming over, I mean."

He raised a brow in confusion. "O... _kay_...?"

I nodded awkwardly and played with the ends of my ponytail, searching for words to say. "Uh... yeah, bye." I spat out rapidly, heading towards the door and I felt my face go red. Why the hell did I thank him for? turned around to say more but he was already gone, and all I could do was stand and ponder as to why my heart was hammering so hard.

* * *

 _ **Very OOC, sorry. Couldn't help myself.**_


	14. Chapter 14: X and Y

**Chapter 14: X and Y**

"Stella, could you come help me with this?" My mom called from downstairs, sounding as if she was struggling. I put down my pen against my maths book and made my way out of my room, heading towards the downstairs floor.

"What is it?"

"Just get down here!" She nearly shrieked, obviously impatient. I groaned and muttered curses under my breath, following her voice into the kitchen. She stood there with a huge basket of laundry, looking probably almost as big as her. "Could you take this from me? Put it in my room? I'm cooking and it's gonna burn if I don't get back to it." She explained, handing the basket over to me before I could object. It was much much heavier than it looked and I struggled to keep it balanced.

"Christ, what's _in_ here?" I chuckled, my arms already aching. "A dead body?"

She smirked. "It'll be _your_ dead body if you don't hurry up and get your ass up those stairs," Mom teased, checking the oven. She took the food out and placed the tray on the counter. "I'm cooking bacon. Want some?"

I shook my head, but I really did want that bacon. "No thanks." I smiled through my straining as I turned awkwardly to leave the room, the basket nearly weighing me down completely. Trekking up the stairs was a struggle, but I managed without complaint. I leant my shoulder against my mom's bedroom door and went inside, placing the basket on the white sheeted bed. I gazed around her large room, and how I wished it were mine. It was very bland, the theme being white and red. White sheets with red trim, white wallpaper, red curtains, white carpet, red rug... yet the walls were plain. No pictures, no photos, no proof that she had interests or a family. If this room were mine, I'd replace the reds with light blues, and I'd stick up magazine cutouts and hang pictures and paintings and photos of things I loved.

But alas, it wasn't my room. So I couldn't do that. There was no point complaining, so I got back on track.

I sighed, shutting off the lights and leaving, shutting her bedroom door behind me. I returned to my bedroom and slumped myself back down in my desk chair, reading over my math equations for the umpteenth time. None of it made any sense. _If you don't pass the next test, he's gonna fail you_.

I buried my forehead in my hands and growled aloud in boredom and frustration. "Oh my God, I don't get it." I muttered to myself, tapping my pen against the pages of my textbook. _If x and then... no, wait, y, then... what the heck?_

A loud, annoying tapping noise distracted me, and the noise wasn't coming from my pen. It came from the window. I looked towards the glass, out at the black sky and the moon and the stars that lit it all up. And then another, obnoxious crack hit my window. It was a rock, or a pebble or something. When Cassidy said she was sorry for being grounded, I didn't think she'd resort to tossing rocks at my window.

But then, a face popped up from my windowsill and grinned at me, scaring me half to death. I yelped in surprise and my shoulders jumped in shock. _That's definitely not Cassidy._

"Oh my God!" I whisper yelled, nearing towards the glass.

It was the Joker, face full of paint and even a little bruised, pressed up creepily against my window. He tapped sarcastically against the glass with his index finger, like he was observing a fish tank, trying to get me to blubber in surprise. And I did, worrying about what I'd do with his company. Why was he here?

"Let me, uh, _in_ , doll," Joker's voice muffled behind the glass as I desperately tried to reach for the handle. "It _is_ pretty _cold_ , y'know." He smirked, resting his forehead against the glass.

I stuck my tongue out against my top lip in concentration as I managed to get the window open, stepping aside for Joker to climb in. He groaned in struggle and even bumped his head, to which I sadistically chuckled.

He finally got in and shut the window, rubbing his hit head. "Agh..." He hissed. "I do that _every_ time, you know that?"

I sniggered and sat back in my desk chair, resting my elbows on the table. "Maybe if you called me first you wouldn't _have_ to climb in through the window." I said in a playful, hushed tone, watching him carefully as he stood beside where I sat. He rested his palms on the desk.

"But, ah, wouldn't _that_ be so _boring_?" Joker rhetorically asked, eyeing my homework in disinterest. "Like, _expecting_ things is, uh, _dull_. I _like_ surprises. _You_ like surprises, _toots_?" He asked, resting his hands on my shoulders.

I shivered at his touch. I rested my pen between my teeth, thinking. _Y? Y? What was y_? "It depends," I said, scribbling down a few numbers. "If it's a surprise knife attack in an alley, I doubt I'd like _that_ very much. But a cake..." I smiled and he chuckled lowly.

"Well, I _ain't_ no _baker_. You ain't getting any, uh, _cakes_ from _me_." He smacked his lips teasingly right against my ear, before pulling away and waltzing around my room in a predatorily manner. I didn't watch, only read the numbers and letters in my book. Boy, did it give me a bitch of a headache.

I remembered the bruises on his face, specifically his jaw and head, and curiously, I turned my chair around. "Hey," I piped up, making Joker look at me with raised brows. "What's up with the bruises? Did you get into a fight or something?" I asked, and he giggled.

"Yeah, just a couple'a _mob_ members," He said casually, as if it were nothing. To him, with his attitude and just... him in general, I was sure it _was_ just nothing. "Well. _Old_ mob members. They used to, uh, to _work_ for _Gambol_."

"Yeah, you slit his _mouth_?" I asked, pursing my lips, to which he nodded. "That's... a little sick."

He shook his head childishly, running his knuckles across the book spines. "No, no, no, _no_. I'm _sending_ a _message_. A _statement._ "

"I think a letter with a please and a thank you'd do just fine." I sarcastically remarked, sighing.

And without answering, he finished observing my room and laid down comfortably on my bed, kicking off his shoes to the other side of the room. I stared with wide, unbelieving eyes as he chuckled and puffed my pillows to his satisfaction before crossing his arms casually. "Quite the, uh, _abode_ you got, _toots_." _He just makes himself right at home, doesn't he?_

I glared at him through drooped eyes of resentfulness and brushed off his compliment.

"I hate you."

"I hate me too- and _hey_ , ain't it _way_ past your, uh, _bedtime_?" He asked before giggling and all I did was sit back at my desk and ignore him, trying to find x, _find x_... "What's _that_ you got _there_ , Stell? Homework?" He questioned, flicking through a magazine he found on my floor.

"I'm studying," I grumbled, chewing my pen. "Leave me alone."

I felt a stuffed turtle make contact with the side of my head as he threw it at me and a long, childish sigh came from Joker's lips. " _Hey_. I ain't some, uh, _hallucination_ you can just _dismiss_ with a _flick_ of ya _wrist_ , doll. C'mon, Stell. Show me some _love_." His voice hummed lowly and thickened and I could practically hear the giggles he was about to make rise up his throat.

I set my pen down and sighed, turning my head to look at Joker. He sat up against the headboard of my bed, arms crossed in calmness and his legs crossed one over the other in comfort. He looked at me with a tilted head and tired eyes that yearned for attention, begged for my attention, like a bored child needing fun. And of course, a stuck up smirk lined his lips- he knew I needn't even answer before I decided to crawl over.

I blinked heavily as my eyes made contact with his. "I'm just really stressed... and I've got exams soon," I swallowed dryly, but then began babbling in paranoia. "I've got exams I need to pass, and if I don't then my mom's gonna go crazy and I'll have to retake them all and I'll feel even worse and more stressed, and then I won't have time to do anything anymore and-"

" _Hey_ ," He let out a long chuckle and leant his head back against the headboard but refused to break gaze with me. "Take a _break_ , Stell. Come sit," He inched out his right hand out of his crossed arms and bent a yearning finger towards me. " _Come_."

That word dropped a hammer in my chest. Suddenly I swore the room became much hotter after that. I both loved and hated his alluring and sensual tone, his string of innocently used innuendos, and I knew he was doing it all on purpose. To tease me. He just _knew_ I was a virgin. He _knew_ I hadn't been touched in a long time. He _knew_ that I wanted sex in the most desperate way possible- with almost anyone- and then limited my human contact to him and him only. I had to say, it was working, as much as I hated it. And his voice never helped... _come..._

I dryly swallowed.

"Stella? I said _come_." His voice cooed as he asked and he cracked a teasing smile. He knew what I was thinking by how I'd pursed my lips and turned red. He knew he could win me over in any and every situation. And this was one win of many.

I exhaled lightly and rose slowly, pushing in my desk chair after. My steps to the bed were easy and slow in hesitation, and I couldn't stop sucking at the roof of my mouth in anxiousness. God only knew what he was going to do to me.

 _Come_...

Before I sat down I made a stop to get a book, and only then did I lay down beside him, on my back. I exhaled heavily in relief and nervousness, rubbing my eyes tiredly. He shuffled over an inch, making sure I had my space. I rolled my eyes. _Oh, how dreadfully kind of him._

"I'm so tired." I yawned, flipping to page 209 in the book I was reading.

He chuckled at me and turned his head to the side to look at me. "Go to _sleep_ , then."

I shook my head. "I'm too scared you'd kill me in my slumber," I said, a small smirk on my face. "Why'd you come over, anyway?"

He licked his lips. "Dunno. I ain't, uh, got no other _friends_ , really," He laughed, and I put my book down. "Like, I can't just-ah, _ask_ my men to come and get _drunk_ with me. I _hire_ them. I _kill_ them. I'm their _boss._ Y'know? I can't get _drunk_ with _them._ When I'm _drunk_ I start _talking_."  
My sad eyes bored into his. I actually felt... sorry for him, in a way. He had no friends he could just sit down and talk to, so that's why he kept harassing me. And even though I hated it, I supposed the company wasn't as bothersome anymore. He felt like the devil sat on my left shoulder. It seemed practically every other day he wasn't out on a massacre, he'd come to me. I couldn't believe it but I'd say I felt a little bit guilty for being so blunt and stubborn and hateful to him...

"No friends?" I frowned sympathetically, resting my head on my pillow. He shrugged.

"Not _really_. I mean _sure_ , I got _guys_ I can talk to and, uh, _criminals_ here and there... but at the end'a the day ya just wanna _sit_ down and _ramble_ on about yourself and the world and hear something _other_ than a ' _yes boss_ ' as a response."

"Like therapy." I softly said in a hushed tone, turning my head to look at him. For a single moment, paused and bolted into time, our eyes met. I swore that for a second, I got him, and he got me. For the first time, we looked at each other like equals.

"Like _therapy_ ," He agreed, finally breaking my gaze, walking his fingers up my arm. Goosebumps were left in its tracks and I stifled a shiver, drooping my eyes from his gaze. "You ain't, uh, _ideal_ company- we're too _different_ \- but y'know. You're _fun_. You _get_ me. And you _bite_. Can't resist a _biter_."

 _Too different_. _That's an understatement._

I scoffed. "Well... I wouldn't say I _get_ you... personally, I think you're _nuts_."

"No, I'm _not_ -ah. I just _see_ things the way they actually, uh... _are_. There's _rapists_ being _released_ free of charge, and... well, _anyone_ with a working _brain_ can tell that's _wrong_. And that ain't even the _start_ of it."

I was surprised for him to think about that. I mean, I couldn't imagine him raping anybody, come to think of it, but I just figured he saw himself above any other criminal, regardless of thinking if their morals were wrong or not. I just didn't understand how he was pointing out what was sick and wrong with the world yet he killed people like it were nothing. I just couldn't understand his hypocrisy. How he was all for killing yet against rape. In one way, it could've made sense, but in others, it didn't. There was some humanity in him. There _had_ to be. It just wouldn't be let out anytime soon...

Joker poked his tongue along the insides of his scars. " _Rapists_ are, uh, _sad_. Can't get their _dick_ inside _anyone_ with a _yes_. Ain't that _sad_?"

"It's sad." I agreed, limiting on what speeches and opinions I'd have loved to talk about. My opinion was surely different to his, but this was the one thing we could agree on.

He mockingly played with the ends of my hair, sighing lightly under his breath. As I read my book his scent of gasoline, gunpowder, sweat and something else sweeter drowned me, and it was a smell I'd have liked to have personally put in a bottle. I didn't know why I liked it so much, but it was so, so, good. So nice and familiar yet wrong feeling and distant. It was wrong to like any aspect about him, but it was almost inevitable. I'd dated numerous guys who just smelled the same- of cologne. People enjoy change, it's human nature and psychology to like experiencing new things, and maybe that was why I was more accepting of his endeavours with me and why perhaps his features appealed to me so much . It was all so new. I had to say, I'd never dated anybody with scars before...

I shook the thought from my head. _A relationship? With that? That's a fucking joke._

"You look _tense_." He grumbled thoughtfully, staring at all the features of my face. I uncomfortably fidgeted and blinked tiredly.

"Joker, if I sleep," I started, looking at him, putting my book down on my chest, "Like, f I just go to sleep _right_ now, could you just, y'know... not kill me and leave as soon as I'm asleep?" I asked, furrowing my brows. "And... take the window. Be quiet, my mom's downstairs."

" _Why'd_ you ask?"

"I'm tired," I complained. "And you're like a goddamn radiator." I said with a slight, shy laugh, the secret of revelling in his warmth finally out. He smirked.

"Oh, you can be _much_ warmer," He joked playfully, running his hand across my flat stomach, his feather-like touch making me blush. " _Hotter_."

"Asleep."

My outburst of laughter broke the sensual mood and I giggled, holding my hand to my mouth to hide my smile. Joker had a look on his face as though he were so fed up, so done with me, and yet I knew behind it all he was still smiling. His mouth frowned but his eyes smiled. He was laughing too, just not visibly.

After my laughs died down I hummed weakly, my stomach tensing in laughter now and again. Joker just breathed, and I watched how his chest rose and fell. It was strange thinking of how everybody's chest rose and fell and no matter how different or how opposite, we were all the same; just a bag of bones and a pumping heart. And I realised that perhaps the Joker and I, or the Joker and my mother, or even the Joker and the Batman, weren't even that different after all. We all had a conscience, and a heart. They just worked differently. I knew the Joker _had_ a heart, in the literal sense (or he'd be dead), but in the other sense... I mean, his humanity... yeah, I'd say he could feel. Just not the same, and not as much. His feelings of remorse and guilt seemed to be replaced by dark optimism and incredible psychological knowledge (which was very, very ironic, since he'd been locked up in an asylum for quite some time). He was so differently similar to everyone else, like he was the tailed side of the coin, the only joker in the deck. I'd only wished he knew that he wasn't so different, perhaps that would've set his head the right way round.

Eventually I grew tired of watching and thinking in silence and my eyelids started drooping, and the third time they fell, they eventually stayed shut.

* * *

I was staring up at my ceiling.

White and bland and empty, not any different than what it was yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that. No different from when _he_ was here.

I reacted to the sound of my phone alarm and shut it off, groaning tiredly. I turned over to face the wall and huddled into my blankets for just a little while longer. I was awake, wide awake and ready to get up and leave for school, but some melancholic feeling sank me and dragged me down and I felt like the glass was half empty for once, leaving me as nothing but a more depressed and angsty and moody of a teenage girl than I already was.

I felt for the space beside me that was occupied the night before and my fingertips clenched around the bed sheet. It was cold, void of any evidence of his presence. He was long gone.

 _At least he did as he was told. Why do I care?_

Maybe I wanted somebody to wake me with a joke, or a sarcastic remark, or even a little bit of dark wittiness. Heck, I wouldn't have minded an elbow in my face if it were just an excuse for me to say 'good morning' to somebody.

But no. Everything was cold, everything was white, and the only thing that left a trace of his existence was his goddamn smell invading my blankets and my nose and my head.

I glared at the wall and tossed myself onto my back, before sitting upright and looking down at the space in my lap where my book used to be. I turned my neck to see it sat neatly on my desk, the page bookmarked with a joker card. His little evidence he left around made it seem like he was mocking me. Nothing but just a reminder that he was still there, and most likely always would be.

And that was the inevitability of it. He was a figment of my reality that was real and inescapable.

I sighed.

Mondays.

* * *

 _ **Sooo I know Joker's acting VERY OOC but y'know. I imagined that around 'friend' figures he'd be more teasing and verbal than physically abusive. Idk. Maybe that'll change. Don't forget to comment/review what you thought and I'll see ya next time ;)**_


	15. Chapter 15: Touch

**Chapter 15: Touch**

It was lunch time at my college and for once, I decided not to go home in order to avoid eating. Instead, I stayed in the cafeteria, gladly nibbling on a few strawberries and guzzling down water. I watched from my seat as Cassidy was up at the salad bar, picking out her favourite combination and also occasionally stopping to talk to some girl or guy I'd never met before. Everybody loved Cassidy and I was astonished that she preferred to be friends with me instead of being crowded by a gaggle of other girls. That was why I loved her- because she loved me.

She returned with her colourful mixed salad and slapped the tray down on the table, elegantly straightening her back as she sat opposite me. I drank my water and smiled, and she smiled back. "Hi, Stell."

I swallowed my water and went back to my strawberries. "Hey, Cass."

Through a mouthful of pure, clean lettuce, she pointed her plastic fork at me. "I noticed you've been eating more since the last time I saw you. Were you on a diet or something?" She asked, raising her eyebrow.

I had a small, content and neutral smile on my face. Lately, things were just going my way. I was happy and despite being close 'friends' with Gotham's most wanted murderer, things seemed to be looking up for me. I felt like lady luck was on my side for once.

"No, not really," I lied kindly, the type of lie you'd tell to reassure someone it didn't matter anymore. "Maybe you just didn't catch me eating as much." I shrugged.

She nodded in understanding and swallowed her food, waving her fork about enthusiastically. "Well anyway, you don't need to go on a diet. You're, like, the skinniest person I know," She said, then awkwardly gritted her teeth, looking over to the infamous anorexic girl of our school. She sat at her lonely table, in her skin tight vest and shorts and her greasy brown hair up in a ponytail. She had a sullen, threatening glare, and her plate full of food, which everybody in the cafeteria knew she wasn't going to touch, instead it was all on display, such a waste. "Well... almost. Not as skinny as anorexic Alice." She mocked her nickname, but not cruelly.

Despite her careless comment, I just nodded in agreement. I disagreed with the bashing on eating disorders- and any disorder in general, really- but Alice wasn't actually a very nice person anyway. Still, that gave me no reason to bitch about somebody I barely knew, so I kept my mouth shut.

Cassidy's eyes lit up and she hummed through her full mouth to get my attention. "Hey!" She suddenly gasped, like she'd had an epiphany. "I meant to tell you. Y'know my dad works for Wayne Enterprises? Well, Bruce Wayne's holding a party Saturday night and my parents are taking me. You wanna come?"

I put a skinned strawberry stalk on my paper plate and furrowed my brows. "Well, is it okay for me to?"

She shrugged. "Depends what your mom says. My parents said it's fine, I can invite whoever I want."

I nodded gladly, smiling. "Sure, I don't see why not."

She grabbed my hands and sighed gratefully. "You're the bestest friend in the whole world, you know that?"

I laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

She ate her salad some more. "I suggest you bring one of your books or something. It's probably gonna be _really_ boring," She complained. "Just rich people and pervy old men."

"But _you're_ rich people."

"But I'm not pervy old men." Cass pointed out.

I smirked. "Touché."

* * *

A full afternoon and two Starbucks lattes later, I got home and the first thing I was greeted to was a post-it note stuck on the door. I took it off and scanned over it, sighing disappointedly afterwards.

 _Hey, I went out again, won't be back, staying over a friend's... bla bla bla. I bought you more pizza for you to eat... and I don't even remember seeing you eat any of it! Where did it all go? Anyways, be good, don't leave a mess. PLASTIC COVERS BEFORE YOU PAINT._  
 _-Mom_

I threw my schoolbag down by my front door as I walked in and I kicked off my shoes, reading over the note multiple times. This was unbelievable. She was out almost every single night, and I was beginning to think that she wasn't staying over a 'friend's'. I was angry and a little hurt that she couldn't even look her own daughter in the eye and tell her the truth, because I wasn't stupid, nor was I born yesterday, and I knew she was lying. I suppose all that was left to wonder about was who she was screwing every other night.

I crumpled up the post-it and threw it to wherever it landed, a very teensy tiny minor 'fuck you' to keeping the house clean. If she were here more often, she could've tidied it herself.

I had no idea what to do for the next few hours. I had no homework and I didn't feel inspired enough to paint or read or even watch an episode of Game of Thrones. I felt potentially useless, and the worst of it was that I relied on _one_ _person_ to make it better.

 _Don't do it._

I took my phone out of my pocket and glared at it, my thumb gliding across the touch screen.

 _Don't call him._

I unlocked my phone and gazed at the green call button, wanting to push it so badly.

 _Don't rely on him._

And with one sigh of defeat, I pressed the button and held it to my ear, painfully waiting through every ring.

 _You idiot._

The receiver clicked. "Hellooo?"

"Hey," I answered, playing with my hair. "So my mom's neglected me again and I got a whole pizza to share. You busy right now?"

Joker hummed long and thoughtfully on the other end of the line and I heard the hesitation in his voice. The sound of rejection was obvious and I instantly felt ridiculous for calling him up.

 _Told you._

" _Well_ ," He tiredly yawned, giggling a little through the middle. "I'm, uh, kinda in the _middle_ of something right n- _SHUT UP_." His voice suddenly turned dark, and I was mortified for a second, but in the background I heard the faint, panicked breathing of another man, his shaking voice silently whimpering through muffled screams. Joker giggled. "Oh, uh, _sorry_. Not _you_." He said to me, chuckling apologetically.

"What are you doi-"

"Yeah, _doll_ , see, like I _said_ , I'm _busy_ at the, uh, _moment_ -" Joker paused his sentence to threateningly snarl at his current victim (who wasn't me) and muttered death promises under his breath. His voice became louder as he came back to the phone. "- _but_ I _could_ make it at seven _thirty_?" He offered, and I heard his struggle with whatever he was doing to the poor guy with him. I wish I could've helped the guy but hey, the Joker would've had my head.

I nodded, despite him not being able to see me. "Okay. Yeah, alright, I'll get the pizza on." I said, mentally cursing myself for sounding like some devoted housewife or something.

"Atta _girl_. Nothing, uh, _better_ than a good _bite_ after a _hard_ day's _work_ , huh?"

I heard the man in the background whimper in fear and his muffled screams made it obvious he was gagged. I pursed my lips. "Yeah."

" _Bye_ , toots."

"Bye."

I was the first to hang up. I stared at my empty phone screen and mentally scolded myself for crawling back to him. I shouldn't have done that. He was dangerous. My attention was what he wanted and I was feeding it to him from a silver spoon.

I hated myself.

After putting the pizza in the oven, I paced desperately around the house. I watched the clock in impatient anticipation, every second passing by like an hour, and every minute like a day. Once or twice I checked to make sure the clock wasn't broken, but much to my dismay it worked and I was getting restless. I slouched on the sofa. Five minutes later I'd be sat on the kitchen sofa. Then maybe I was on the floor next to the coffee table.

I hated waiting so much.

I jumped up from the floor to my feet and headed straight towards the liquor cupboard, confident on picking my favourite. I unscrewed the bottle and took a sour sip, scrunching my nose up once I'd swallowed. Then I'd take another mouthful, doing it all over again. I smiled to myself and walked more laps around the downstairs area, taking a swig of Vodka on every third pace.

By the time I'd lost count of my steps, there was a harsh knocking at my door. I skipped over and stood as high as I could on my tip toes and peeked through the peep-hole. The green hair and paint was unmistakable, and of course he wore his expectant glare that I could easily track from a mile away.

I opened the door and smiled, blinking tiredly. "Hey, Joker." I casually said as though I hadn't invited a murderer into my house. He smirked and stuck his fingers in his pockets, stepping in with long strides.

He eyed my Vodka bottle. "Started _drinking_ , uh, _without_ me, now?" He questioned, licking his bottom lip sweetly and smoothly.

I quietly hiccuped once and convinced myself he hadn't heard me. "You took too long." I falsely complained, putting my bottle down on the coffee table and walking towards the kitchen. He stayed close behind yet once we were through the door he made a straightforward path to the sink and turned the tap on before taking his hands out of his pockets.

A flash of red caught my eyes and I took a double take. "Woah, wait- is that blood?" I asked, even though I wouldn't have been able to mistake it for something else.

Joker rubbed his hands together under the water, washing the blood away and sighed out of what seemed to be exhaustion, and nodded. "I _did_ , uh- I _told_ you I was _busy_."

"Who was it?" I asked, regretting my loose tongue. I didn't want to humanise the victim, I'd feel guilty remembering that he was a man with family, dreams, aspirations, etcetera.

He shrugged, turning the tap off. "Didn't _know_ his name. Some, uh, _drug_ dealer who worked for _Gambol_ ," He chuckled as he wiped his hands in his purple trousers. " _Jeez_ , they _sure_ do-ah, hold a _grudge_ against me."

I scoffed lightly in laughter and quickly checked the pizza, but put it back in the oven for longer. "Well, I mean you _did_ murder their boss. Lost their jobs, money... y'know," I said, leaning against the counter. "And now that his death brought publicity they're sort of knee deep in shit and being tracked down by the GCPD." I pointed out with a quick thoughtful nibble at my lip. Joker slowly yet calmly neared me and I held in a shiver, instead letting goosebumps run up my arm.

He stood in front of me and boredly occupied himself by playing with my hair. "Yeah, but they're all so _serious_ , doll. When's the _last_ time a, uh, _bad guy_ had _fun_ with what he's doing?" He rhetorically asked me, his stiff brown gaze burning into my steel grey eyes. He dropped my hair from his fingers and instead trailed his hand down my cheek and my neck, slowly. I tensed and my heart beat faster as I held my breath, trying to stop the blood from rising to my cheeks. " _When's_ the last time _you_ had fun, huh?"

I opened my mouth to answer yet my mind was blank. Nothing came out and I stammered quietly. "I... uh..."

Joker's hand trailed lower and lower and my heart beat faster and faster and our breaths got heavier and heavier and-

We both jumped, startled at hearing the oven's timer go off. His hands pulled away from me rapidly as if he'd pricked himself on a thorn, or perhaps burnt himself on a flame. I, flustered and confused, focused on getting the pizza out and not burning myself, whilst at the same time trying to stop blushing out of embarrassment.

I heard Joker make a disappointed yet slightly satisfied groan as he slinked past me to leave, slyly brushing his hand against my ass with a light, playfully gentle _smack_. My eyes widened and I tensed, the pizza tray shortly slamming down on the countertop. I watched him from the corner of my eye leaving the room, a pleased smirk on his face. Once he was gone I buried my forehead in my hands, silently cringing.

He smacked my _ass_. _He_ smacked _my_ ass.

I took a half turn of my torso and peered back at my butt, checking it out. I secretly grinned, slightly impressed with myself.

 _I suppose I do have a pretty cute butt._

Putting the pizza on a plate I felt reassured and confident, a little smile lacing my lips. I strolled with long, slender strides into the living room and saw that Joker was laid lazily on the sofa, yet there was still a little space left for me. I sighed under my breath and squeezed into the space, placing the plate between us, and Joker instantly shot up, claiming his chosen slices for himself.

He bit into it and made a long, delicious growl of satisfaction. "I haven't eaten _all_ day." He openly admitted, talking through mouthfuls.

I nibbled on the corners hesitantly. "Careful. It's hot." I told him, shifting my gaze towards him.

He stuffed the whole steaming slice into his mouth and I watched as after a few bites, he swallowed it whole. A short moment passed and he smirked at me. "Too, uh, _hot_ for you, Stell? Or is it just _me_?"

I held in a laugh and gently shoved him in the ribs. "You wish." I teased as I ate some more.

"What do you, uh, _mean_ ' _I wish_ '? I'm the hottest there _is_ , toots." He bragged, jokingly smoothing out his hair for play.

I shook my head. "No way."

"Uh, _yes_ way. I mean, _look_ at me." Joker giggled madly, and I couldn't help but watch.

His smile was somewhat a little captivating, I guess, and I couldn't deny that he had a good build- not too fat or too thin or too muscly or too scrawny- it was like the borderline between all that. Personally, I preferred him without the makeup. I mean, he was... sort of attractive, just because he was a psychopath didn't change how I saw his appearance, unfortunately. I felt bad for thinking he looked good.

"I'm looking," I mumbled in monotone. "So now what? Do I swoon at your marvellousness or get on my knees and worship you?" I sarcastically retorted with a smirk.

"Well, you _could_ , uh, get on your knees and do a little something _else_." He clicked his tongue and winked flirtatiously.

"Ew, c'mon, that's gross!" I whined, putting my pizza crust I wasn't in the mood for eating down on the plate. The pizza was finished for now and I put the plate back on the coffee table, ready to take out to the kitchen after. I grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, pursing my lips. There was nothing to really watch. I looked back at Joker. "Nothing's on."

He sat comfortably and cooly, resting back with his arms rested up on the back of the seat. He raised his brows. "Uh, _so_?"

"Well..." I swallowed then looked down, realising it wasn't actually all that important. "Um, I don't know."

"We haven't, uh, _spoken_ in a while," He said in a matter of fact tone. "Y'know, ah... _therapy_."

I brushed my hair out of my face and tilted my head. "Why, you wanna talk?" I offered.

He slowly shrugged and stretched his mouth, elongating his scars. "Uh, _yeah_."

"About what?"

A distinct smile formed on his lips and he stared at me, letting the silence stay for a minute.

" _You_." He finally said.

I tried my best not to roll my eyes. "That was so corny."

"No, _seriously_ ," He said, his hand casually on my knee. I glanced at it calmly and then looked back at him. "I, uh, I wanna _talk_ about _you_."

I placed a shy, hesitant hand on top of his and discreetly tried to move it from me, but to no avail. He was stubborn and didn't move. I gave up and instead used the same hand to brush my hair from my face.

"What about me?"

Joker shrugged, licking his lips. "Uh, I _dunno_. Stuff you _like_. Stuff you _don't_ ," He said. "Stuff."

I raised an eyebrow at him and shivered as his fingers curled around the back of my lower thigh. I held my breath to suppress a gasp and looked anywhere but at him. "Well..." I stuttered, playing with the hem of my shirt. "I like..." w _hat you're doing to me_. _I like that_. "I like art."

"I figured _that_ ," He hummed, his thumb rubbing circles against the tight fabric of my jeans. "I _mean_ \- I wanna, uh, _know_ what you like to do when nobody's _around_. Not even _me_."

"Nothing particularly interesting."

" _Not_ the answer I'm _looking_ for, sweets."

"Well-"

"Do you _touch_ yourself?"

My eyes widened slightly. "What? S-stop, don't ask me that..." I looked down as his hand clenched closer to my leg and the warmth brought a burning heat in my stomach.

"Does... anybody _else_ touch you?" He didn't even smirk or smile or laugh, only watched me through hooded eyes with a look that screamed one thing- pure, devilish _lust_.

"No..." I truthfully answered, feeling my face grow red and hot with every roll of his thumb on my leg. "Joker, why are you asking-"

" _Shhh_ ," He hushed me, all of a sudden leaning closer to me. "Just answer the, uh, _questions_ , Stell."

"But-" I objected, but the stern brow he arched at me gave me a warning to stay quiet, and I did just that. "Sorry."

He smirked approvingly to himself and eventually I was pushed up against the arm of the sofa, him half straddling me. I never realised how heavy my breaths were, but I could never say truthfully that I disliked what was happening. I, in some twisted sense, liked it. I liked the heat and the closeness but... he was... _him_. He was supposed to be vile and wretched and murderous and a criminal, he was the _Joker_ , but I _liked_ it. I felt... adventurous. For the first time in years I felt like I served a purpose, a purpose for somebody else. I had a goal, and that goal was to fly as close to the sun as I could without getting burnt.

With his hand still on my thigh, Joker moved it upwards inch by inch, causing my chest to grow tight. How sexually frustrated _was_ he?

I moaned.

Just straight out, I moaned. My eyes widened and I grew lightheaded when I realised the sound I made stretched the smile on his face. Oh God- I never _meant_ to moan- and especially not in front of him! _Because_ of him!

His mouth rested right against my ear and his husky breath shuddered against my skin, and I felt the coldness of his paint against my jaw. My eyes fluttered shut as I revelled in the moment; just the feeling of being touched washed away all the stress that bore my heavy shoulders and the feeling of somebody's weight on mine brought me satisfaction I hadn't felt since I was sixteen. I had close human contact. Appreciation. Somebody _wanted_ me for once.

My fingers found the collar of his shirt and I slinked my hands around the back of his hot neck. He bit and nipped gently at the top curve of my ear and agonisingly slowly made his way down my jaw.

I breathed out, "What're you doing?"

He chuckled against my jawline, "What I _want_."

"Jok-"

"Look at _you_ , little _mousey_ ," He cooed against my burning flesh, his teeth bared out in a grin of triumph and pleasure. " _Look_ atcha. A little, uh, _firecracker_ sparking about _stubbornly_..." He hummed, trailing his tongue down my neck, "Into a _submissive_ , scared little _doll_. You _scared_ , doll?"

My stomach clenched as I felt him bite softly down into my tender skin. I grabbed the back of his neck like it were the only thing that was keeping me alive, as if I were about to drown myself in the haziness that I deemed pleasure.

"No," I whispered out truthfully. "I'm not scared."

"Then you _like_ it," He softly growled. " _Say_ you _like_ it. Because, uh, I _know_ you do."

"I-" It was hard to form words when I was trying to focus on the feeling clouding my neck. "I like it," I mewled. "I like it. _God_ , I like it." It was such a relief to admit that. To finally submit. I felt as if I'd let go of the breath I was holding, letting my walls crumble. I wasn't sure for how much longer I could keep up the stubborn act anymore.

Not caring for his answer, I groaned impatiently and found the back of his jacket. The damn jacket was heavy and I wanted it off, so in protest, I tugged on it. Joker sighed and sat up and away from me, making my skin cold, and took his jacket off as quickly as he could, throwing it to the floor. I then yearned for him and I held the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me desperately.

I hadn't had anybody get on me for nearly two years. I hadn't had a proper make out with anybody for nearly two years. _It's exam season. I'm stressed. A little messing around wouldn't hurt..._

And with that thought urging me on, I pulled him down and kissed him selfishly, my lips feeling hot and bruised from the sudden contact. For a second, I felt nothing, then unsurprisingly Joker kissed me back, straddling me tighter and harder. I broke the kiss for air and found his wrists, guiding his hands to my sides, where I wanted them. I wanted him to _feel_ me. I wanted him to touch me where nobody'd felt in a long time. I didn't even look at him before closing my eyes and kissing him again, hard and careless and tangled and rough.

He groaned against my mouth and the vibrations quivered against my lip. I raised my brows to myself and pondered- he never seemed like the type to just give in like that. I thought _I'd_ be the one moaning and mewling. I didn't have much time to think before I half arched my back at his sudden touch, his cold and rough hands sliding up my shirt.

I pulled back for air and tipped my head back to try and speak, but I was cut off by my own moan when his tongue latched onto my neck. My shrill voice echoed in the room and I curled my legs around his body, bringing him as close to me as I could in that moment.

"Wait-" I murmured, but he didn't hear me. "H-hey, hold on..." I said slightly louder, slipping my hands in his hair. With one last gentle bite at my neck he pulled back and sat over me, towering above me. I gasped out heavily. "We can't do this again." I said.

His brows crossed and he frowned moodily. "Why _not_?"

I shyly shrugged. "Well... you're... _you_. I can't be with you like... that..." I sadly made up an excuse for myself, my fingers clenching around his biceps. His hands still stood a hair's width from my skin and I wanted them to _touch_ me so, so bad.

Joker scoffed. "Who _said_ we were, uh, like _that_? _C'mon_ , Stell..." He mumbled, massaging my waist deeply. "Help me help you," He murmured seductively, urging me to shut my eyes and just enjoy myself. "You're _stressed_... have a little _fun_... _relax_..." He smiled darkly, leaning in for another kiss.

"Wait..." I stopped him by pressing a finger to his lips, only to have his hand hold my palm as his teeth lightly latched around the joint in my index finger. My cheeks flushed a deep red as he smirked at me, his eyes holding a possessive stare with mine as he delicately bit and nibbled playfully at my finger. I wondered what was on his mind, why he was touching me, why exactly he was doing this.

He mumbled against my finger. "You're a _hot girl,_ Stell _,_ " He grinned and I felt flattered, swallowing hard. "Just, uh, _go_ with it. _Relax_. I'll be _nice,_ " He lowly said, taking my hand from his mouth as he leaned forward, "I'll be _gen-tle_." And took my lips again, kissing me slower and heavier than he had before, speechlessly persuasive. And regretfully yet happily, I kissed him back.

* * *

 _ **Sooo she gave in after all. I mean, who doesn't love a side order of psychopath with your stress?**_

 _ ***mumbles* don'twhinethatit'soociknowi'maflawedpersonok**_


	16. Chapter 16: The Catch

**Chapter 16: The Catch**

I swirled my spoon around in my coffee with my right hand and propped up my chin with the other. The feeling of the cheap cafeteria table against my bare elbow made me uncomfortable and cold, yet I didn't complain. I stayed quiet and reserved, kept to myself, unlike all the others in the cafeteria, whose voices all seemed to drown out with a blur after a couple minutes of insanity. I stared down at the bubbly cream swirls in my coffee as my spoon went round and round... round and round... if I hadn't felt so sharp and angry, the twirling motion of the spoon through the hot black liquid could've lulled me into a hypnotic state.

I had a _throbbing_ headache.

All afternoon; the whinging of other students, the class bells ding-a-linging every thirty frickin' minutes, angsty hormonal teenage boys hooting and whistling as Stacey Morgan strutted past with her golden locks flowing behind her, the vibration of my phone as I ignored Cassidy's desperate texts, and just the very thought of having to spend another night at the house alone like a neglected puppy dog, with my mom out and about with God knows who, God knows where.

It was the first time that I was stuck in a situation where I _wanted_ the Joker to come find me. I wanted him to torment me, I wanted him to call me stupid names and piss me off and force feed me food I'd only been recently persuaded to start eating again. God, now I wanted him to... touch me.

I buried my forehead in my hands and released a shaken sigh. Bit by bit, breath by breath, I was going crazy. All I wanted was a little bit of adventure and excitement in my boringly average life, and even then I was getting all depressed about it. I wanted difference- and how different could it get when you had a psychopath visiting you nearly every day to press his hand on your thigh and make out with you against your mom's sofa? When had anybody but me ever had that? Never. Because I was going absolutely nuts.

I grizzled miserably to myself and finally decided to grab my things and go, leaving my cold coffee behind. I slung my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my portfolio from by my feet, and eventually left the grey cafeteria only to make it outside to the grey campus of my college, sat under the grey greyness of a sky that threatened to rain. I held my phone and dialled the number of the only person I'd really wanted to speak to at that time- and it wasn't hard to guess who that person was. I trailed slow, long laps around the college premises as I waited to get through to the other end of the line, eagerly awaiting the husky and dark voice of the insane asylum escapee.

I shyly bit my nails and scuffed my sneakers against the concrete of the empty car park, ignoring the rowdy group of jocks that smoked there with their girlfriends.

The phone line clicked. "Hello- _oo_?"

"Joker?" I mused, but hushed my voice in case anybody around me was nosily figuring out who I was speaking to.

A chuckle came from the other end. "The one _and_ only. Why'd ya _call_ , toots?" The Joker's voice teased me and I could only imagine how wide his grin was.

I had to stop my own smile from appearing. I had to carry on acting miserable so I had an excuse for wanting his company. "Could I... have a lift? From school?" I asked, quirking my lips as I strolled by the curb of the parking spaces. The smell of distant cigarette smoke from the boys nearby invaded my senses and I looked over to them; six muscular ape-like teenagers, eyeing me like I was meat. Despite having a very busty little brunette by his side, one jock winked at me and licked his slimy fish-lips. I shuddered. It was only ever attractive when the Joker licked his lips at me, and even then it still somewhat haunted me.

Joker hummed from the other end of the phone. " _Why_ can't you catch a, uh, a _bus_?"

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. I hugged my free arm to my stomach warmly. "I want... I want company," I freely said, not caring much how he responded to my neediness. "Besides, you're not... busy right now, are you?"

He sighed. "No. I'm no _t_." He ticked out the 't' teasingly. He didn't seem very impressed with my proposition. For the short moment that I blinked, I imagined his scars and how much I wanted to touch them, then cringed at how deluded I was being. _Stop it_.

I sighed as equally as dull as he did earlier. "Please?" I croaked, looking down at the chipped navy nail varnish that adorned my nails scruffily. "You can kill me afterwards if you want, but I just want someone to talk to. My day's been crappy enough as it is," I said, then smiled to myself. "And I don't think my mom's home..."

He giggled amusingly and smacked his lips. "Alright, okay, _fine_. But I _ain't_ staying, uh, _over_. I got places to _go_ and people to _see_ , hun. But I guess _some_ people require my _special_ attention, now don't they?" Joker obviously stated, referring to me.

I laughed. "I'll see you outside the parking lot." I said in a sing song voice.

"Yeah, _whatever_. I'll be in a _black_ van. _Trust_ me, you'll _know_ which one."

And with that I hung up the phone and slid it back into my pocket, continuing my walk around the grey desert that was my school campus.

It didn't take long before a fat black van with blacked out windows pulled up, taking up across two of the spaces of the parking lot, drifting on its side with a high pitched skidding noise. The left side had a painfully looking deep, ragged scratch all down its side, and one of the tires were obviously different to the other three. Oh, yes. I definitely knew that the van belonged to the Joker. He rolled down the window enough for his hand to be able to fit through and motioned me over, to which I began to follow like the obedient dog I was.

One of the six jocks by the curb hooted at me. "'Ey!" I turned my head to look at a gruff, black haired boy in a yellow football jersey with the number 4 on it in red. "Pretty little girls don't normally go int'a strange vans. Come hang with us, sweetheart." He growled sensually at me, causing the others in their group to laugh, all of them in on the joke. He winked at me afterwards, chewing his tongue.

The driver's seat window then rolled down all the way and out craned the Joker's head, all decked out in makeup and all. If it weren't for the face of all those jocks turning pale, looking like they'd shit themselves, I would've killed the Joker right on the spot for being so indiscreet in broad daylight. Did he think I was suicidal?!

The Joker chuckled darkly as he saw the jock who called me out turn ashen in fear. The jock glanced back at me with terror in his eyes, wordlessly asking me what sort of 'strange van' I was about to jump into. The Joker pointed at him and looked at me. "He causin' ya _trouble_ , sweet cheeks?" He asked me, giving me one of those smirks that told me he was just showing off to scare them.

Before I could say a word, the jock began blubbering. "N-no, I wasn't! I wasn't causin' her no trouble. H-honest."

I giggled under my breath and walked around the van, climbing into the passenger's seat. The Joker just had a little fun. "You _better_ not be. Or I'll cut your itty bitty _dick_ off so sweet little _Cindy_ over there can't have it up the _ass_ no more. I mean, assuming you _got_ one." He carelessly threatened, knowing that even though his threat was false and would barely even scare a six year old, terrified the jock who began hooting at me in the first place. The Joker didn't even wait for a reply as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove out of the school campus, speeding down the road after doing his window up.

The warm humming of the van made me feel secure and I relaxed, throwing my belongings into the back seat. Even though the windows were blacked out, I could see outside, and I watched in mesmerisation as it began raining in Gotham, every raindrop delicately clinking against the glass. It was a nice, serene feeling, the cold only being on the outside and then I, warm inside the security of the Joker's black van.

The Joker cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. "What a _douchebag_ , huh?"

I scoffed under my breath in laughter as he turned down a main road, and I just looked at him. "The poor guy wasn't causing me any trouble." I softly said, turning in my seat so I could watch him.

He quickly glanced at me and grinned mischievously. "I _know_. Just wanted to, uh, _scare_ him off. I don't _like_ sharing my toys with the _other_ kids." He raised his brows suggestively at me.

I quietly yawned and shrugged. "He's not my type anyway."

"Oh?" The Joker questioned, and then pulled down a motorway to kill driving time and keep the conversation going. "What _is_ your type?"

Again, I shrugged. "I don't know. Psychopaths, apparently." I grinned, making him smirk.

We sat in silence for another five minutes and Joker glanced at my thighs. He spied that I was wearing a skirt for once and his eyes lit up as he trailed his gaze over my black knee socks that showed a little of my pale legs before they disappeared up my black skater skirt. He tongued the insides of his scars. "Nice, uh, _skirt_." Joker muttered, not really used to giving genuine compliments. Genuine or not, he was trying to make conversation. I knew what he meant, though.

"Thanks," I mumbled, shyly placing my hands in my lap. "I don't wear skirts often. I thought a little change would be nice."

He just nodded. " _Yeah_. It's, um, it's _nice_."

Silence again.

I was the first to do something. I inched my hand closer towards his and eventually decided on letting my fingers clasp around his upper forearm, sliding down to his wrist of the hand that held the gear stick. I curiously danced my fingers around his wrist bone and he took a quick look at me, raising his brow. " _What_ are you doing?"

I bit my lip quickly and looked at him. "Could you pull up the car, please?" I asked.

"Why?" He asked, a knowing smirk pulling on his lips.

"Please?"

He sighed heavily and swiftly turned a corner, driving down a not-so-strange alley. He pulled up in the nearest corner, pulled the breaks and turned the ignition off. He heaved out a breath of satisfaction and sat back in his seat, grinning slightly at me. "Whadd'ya _want_ , Stell?" He asked me, his legs sat spread out in comfort. I crawled out of my seat and sat on him so I straddled his lap and I held his shoulders, smoothing out his waistcoat. It was too warm in the van to wear all that and his heavy trench coat jacket, so it only made sense that it was already off- and I liked it that way. It exposed his forearms, and he had nice arms.

A soft sigh escaped my slightly parted lips as I trailed my fingers around his shirt collar, correcting the way his tie sat around his neck. He raised an eyebrow and settled his hands around my waist. "Crawling back to _me_ , now, is it?" He teased me, tutting. "I _knew_ you couldn't hold up that _stubborn_ act for, uh, _long_ -ah," He grinned, cupping my chin. "Was it the _kissing_? It was the _kissing_ , wasn't it? Ah, _always_ works. A _stubborn_ girl stooped to a desperate _doll_."

I watched how his scars moved when he spoke. I shyly shrugged. _I need to stop shrugging_. "I can't pretend to be one thing and do another though, can I?"

"Whadd'ya _mean_?" He quirked his lips. "Do _what_?"

I didn't bother answering as I slowly pressed my mouth against his and gradually ground up against him, desperate to be felt and to be touched and _to_ touch. I was so stressed and I was getting extremely sexually frustrated. All this hostility, this teasing, the anticipation, I needed to let my walls down. God, it felt so _good_ to just give in. I constricted my hands in his hair and I was about to pull him much closer, but he roughly fisted my hair in his hand and pulled my head back to look at him. I yelped out nervously and his grip softened, but it was hard enough to stay threatening.

The Joker chuckled, yet he still seemed... suspicious. " _I_ thought that was a _one_ _time_ -ah, _thing_ ," His eyes drooped to look at my exposed neck and upper chest as it all sank down into my low-cut t-shirt. "'Never _again_ ', you said."

I licked my lips anxiously and repeated what he'd once told me. "Help me help you." I smirked, before he grinned.

"You _naughty_ little _minx_."

And just like that he immediately invaded my mouth and gripped my sides, his hands going up my shirt, causing me to shiver into him. My head was in a confusing frenzy of emotions and hormones and I couldn't help but wonder why exactly I needed or wanted this. Was I due on and it was my PMS talking? Why did it have to be him- God- why couldn't I be normal and go to a party and get drunk _then_ get on someone? But no. I had to be sober and sexually frustrated and get on a clown who could as easily slit my throat as he could feel me up. Why did I have to go for the crazy ones?

But, at least it was someone. At least it was consensual.

I whined impatiently and bucked my hips into his, and all of a sudden I felt a wonderful sensation in my most intimate of areas. I gently bit the Joker's lip and he responded, teasing my tongue with his own as he held me on his lap tightly, grinding back.

 _Am I gonna end up dry humping this guy?!_

I pulled back for breath desperately, as if I'd been underwater for hours. Then, as I tipped my head to the side, trying to cover up all the guilt, the Joker gently slapped my cheek with his fingers to get me to look at him. " _Hey_ ," He demanded, grabbing my cheek between his finger and thumb. "Hey. _Look_ at me," He ordered and I obeyed. I looked at him through drooped lids and I breathed softly, my chest heaving up and down quickly with every pulse. I waited for him to speak and I lowered my hands from his hair, instead sliding them down to rest them against his chest. His breathing was as tight as mine and his heart beat just as fast. He furrowed his brows in wonder and he seemed to blank out for a second. "You're too _young_ ," He grumbled, his hands sliding out from under my shirt and instead to my arms. "This ain't _right_. I mean, you're a _virgin,_ for Christ's sakes."

I suddenly realised that he was right and I nodded meekly, not having the willpower to argue back. But he was strong, and he was rough and he was tall and his hands- they _did_ things to me. Every time his fingers brushed my skin it felt like a static shock. This wasn't fair. How could he just pick and choose when to abandon me? And how come it was only this situation where he could tell what was right and wrong? It wasn't like I was underaged. He had no problem with murder but apparently making out with a girl was the line. Honestly, sometimes I swear God was trying to torment me. First, he punishes me by throwing a psychopath at me and now that I was finally going crazy and resorted to trying to get it on with said psycho, he was going to punish me for that. _Fuck you. Now wonder why I don't go to church._

I shook my head. "So?" I scoffed. "It's not like I'm asking for a relationship. I... I just need something to occupy me. A distraction."

He sighed and rested his head back against the seat, fondly stroking my sides. I shuddered and shut my eyes, the feeling of being touched so distant to me, yet so satisfying.

"I don't mind it," I said, hoping that my appreciation persuaded him. I opened my eyes and stared into his hollow, brown stare, almost black. I slid my hands back up to his shoulders and rubbed them fondly. "C'mon. My life isn't interesting. My mom's practically disowning me. I have no friends. I read books to get out. And Cassidy, she... Cassidy's got a better... _life_ than me! You're telling me to loosen up and have fun yet you're the clown who's not even _smiling_. Listen," I sighed, "I'm stressed. I need something- anything- to just take me away from that. Just for a few days," I faked a pout, my eyes growing heavy with need. "Be my distraction. Please?"

"What's the _catch_?" Joker challenged. I never really thought he'd ask that- after all, he was always the one in charge. He practically controlled me. He made the first move and now he was asking _me_ what _he_ had to pay?

I thought for a moment. This was an opportunity. Money? Fame? Freedom? A chance to travel the world? But I thought of something much sweeter, much safer. Much needed in situations like these.

"Don't kill me," I softly mumbled, sliding my thumbs along his collar, the heat of his skin close against mine. "That's the catch."

Rain gently slid down the window and each drop casted a weak shadow over everything in the van. I had to say, despite the van being _his_ , it was pretty clean. No blood, no awkward stench, no dampness. It smelt like fresh leather and of him. It was strange in a comforting sense. The van was still warm and the silent white noise of rain against the glass brought me immense joy.

Joker tongued the insides of his scars and cheeks and glanced at his hands, that warmly slid up and down my waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. He thought of the proposition for a little longer before one of his hands slid up to the back of my neck. He gave a little threatening squeeze before bringing me close to him, our noses touching.

"Tell _anybody_ ," He warned with a feral growl, and held me tighter, "And I _mean_ anybody-" I listened closely, refusing to break eye contact. "And that _catch_ will be thrown _right_ outta the window, sweet cheeks."

I couldn't help but smile. "If I really wanted to rat you out, I would've told the police weeks ago."

Joker grinned slyly and rewarded me with a quick, wet yet gentle kiss. "Atta _girl_ ," He mumbled, and pulled me back again for more kisses. I had butterflies in my tummy. This was real. This was happening. I was falling apart... "Atta girl."

And even after the rain stopped and it started getting dark, neither of us moved from one another. I only wished I knew what was going on in that head of his, why he was kissing me or why he was even being tolerant in the first place. I played my part because I was hormonal and stressed and lonely. Maybe he was just keeping his end of the bargain because that's how he felt too.


	17. Chapter 17: The Party

**Chapter 17: The Party**

It was Saturday night in Gotham City and half of its residents were buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the party that Bruce Wayne himself was hosting in his very own penthouse. The lucky ones who were invited obsessed over looking their best and to keep up appearances, and the unlucky ones skulked and accused Bruce Wayne of being a snobby rich kid with favourites (which some could consider true, but I didn't exactly follow him in the media or anything).

I was one of the lucky ones. I was invited by Cassidy (but I still thought Bruce Wayne was a snobby rich kid).

I wasn't really much of a party person, or a socialite for that matter. I just must've got lucky on that bus when I first met the Joker, my confidence being supported by his casual sense of humour. I sometimes smiled at the thought, how human he seemed, how different of a person he was when I really got to know who was. _What_ he was. That seemingly fateful event made me realise the importance of first impressions, and how crucial they would affect one's perception of you. First impressions also made me think long and hard about the reality of loving somebody unattainable- like high school crushes. The people you'd love from a distance, without really knowing anything about them. Loving somebody from a distance was easy enough, you'd get the general idea of who they were, and just the mere idea, the warped perception of perfection of somebody, was enough to have you gushing in their presence. It was so easy. Then, get to know a person... and it could change everything. That's why high school crushes never work like they do in the movies. Perception of reality.

I was hoping that this damn 'perception of reality' theory applies to this party. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, and I hoped that it wasn't as scary as I thought it'd be. Sometimes I thought about the amounts of people who'd be there and my stomach churned.

I took a turn in the mirror and twisted my torso around, trying to glimpse at my best angle.

At least I looked pretty.

The dress I wore was one of Cassidy's- in fact, it was her second prom dress. And I say second because she'd had multiple boyfriends who were younger than her, and she'd had the blessing to go to prom six times- a prom queen's dream. The dress fitted me perfectly; it was a black cocktail dress that flared out just above my knees, and it was strapless. I wore matching black heels that I couldn't even walk in, and a strapless push up bra that sorta made me look like a hooker from the eighteenth century.

But a pretty hooker, I guess.

I smoothed my hair out and smiled at myself. _I'm dressing for me. I'm dressing for me. I'm dressing for me_. I convinced myself of that fact as I strutted into the living room, ready to say goodbye to mom.

"Mom?" I asked, looking at her lazy form sprawled out across the sofa. She was hungover. She groggily looked up at me, looking careless and tired. I grimaced in response and shrugged, picking up my phone from the coffee table. "Y'know what? Never mind. Have a nice night mom, whoever you're screwing." I scoffed and rolled my eyes, only to hear a baffled groan in return.

I waited by the front door and checked my messages. I raised my brows and felt my stomach twirl at the sight of one name. A single letter.

 _From: J_  
 _Received at: 10:13pm_  
 _That dress looks pretty sexy on you, if i do say so myself sweet cheeks. Makes your legs look longer. See you toniiiiiight_

I thought about what he meant for a moment, nibbling at my lip, before assuming that he was planning to invite himself over, and I knew for a fact that I'd have no say in it one way or the other, so I simply accepted it.

I quickly eyed out of any nearby windows after reading his complimentary comment, wondering how he even knew what I was wearing. I didn't catch any sight of the Joker anywhere, but damn, he had his ways of watching my every move. I took his opinion-slash-comment in appreciation, smiling a little to myself. He was a freak, but even the falsest of compliments boosted my self esteem a little.

I checked the time and as if on cue, I heard a car horn from outside. I quickly grabbed my clutch purse and put my phone inside, slipping out of the house without saying goodbye to my mom, which was a little selfish of me, but it barely crossed my mind.

Parked outside my home was a black limo, and inside was Cassidy and her parents, Cassie waving eagerly at me to hurry with her. I smiled and didn't even look back before skipping over to the limo, the chauffeur holding the door open for me. I got in and beamed. Luxury and pampering was all you got when you involved yourself in Cassidy's life, one of the main reasons she was popular. But _I_ was her favourite. _I_ was her best friend.

"Hey!" Cassidy grinned at me, sipping some bubbly champagne. "Glad you could make it, Stell. Your mom alright with it?"

 _She doesn't care._

"Yup, she's fine with it." I said through smiling teeth as she poured me my own tall glass of champagne.

"Awesome." She giggled as her parents spoke to one another, only sending me a friendly wave as they didn't want to interrupt their conversation. I understood, knowing that they weren't being rude. Cassidy's parents were actually pretty cool.

Cassidy slung an arm around my shoulder. "Tonight's gonna be boring, probably. Great, but boring. But there's alcohol. Stella- we're gonna get pissed." She enthusiastically chimed as we both toasted and clinked our glasses together, drinking the champagne down.

A few hours later, and the party was dead.

We weren't pissed. We weren't having fun. We weren't even _together_.

Soft classical music played in the background as rich and richer people alike conversed with each other about sales or the weather or the Joker or how lovely and comfortable Bruce Wayne's humble home was. Cassidy was dragged off with her parents to meet other family members, and I, being the tag along friend, was just left behind. I stood in a corner with a glass of champagne and I stared out at the infinitely wide, open windows that lined the wall.

I stared out blandly over Gotham's night-life, hearing the occasional, common gunshot now and then.

The party rumbled up a bit once Bruce Wayne himself had arrived, but it lasted for about five minutes and I was barely interested anyway. I simply took one look at Gotham City's heartthrob as he showed of a little speech about Harvey Dent for a second, them looked away. Sure, he was attractive, but not exactly eye catching. He was the type of attractive person that wasn't all that interesting, but given the chance, you wouldn't turn him down if he tried to hook up with you.

I shook the thought away. _C'mon, he's like thirty? And I already have my hands full..._

I checked my phone for more messages.

 _From: J_  
 _Received at: 12:07am_  
 _Oh we're gonna celebrate tonight and you're my special guest, dollface_

 _Received at: 12:09am_  
 _You're so lucky we made that deal yknow? I could really use the 'company' laterrr_

I instantly deleted the texts once I'd read them, something the Joker commanded me to do whenever he texted me. I could never be too safe, he said. He only really sent the texts just to mess with me, it wasn't like I ever crossed his mind much. I understood his priorities. I sure as hell wasn't one of them, and I never wanted to be.

I blushed hard at the thought of his 'company'. I looked around the vast hall, at the hundreds of rich Gothamites that crawled around like insects- fast and sly. Not a single person here suspected that I had a thing going on with the Joker himself. I enjoyed that thought- being different, being special, being the only one. If only they knew. Being an innocent first impression.

But then I pondered at his previous texts. _Why would we be celebrating tonight?_

Suddenly, the elevator doors dinged open and there was a gunshot. Many people let out staccato screams of shock, but I only jumped, too startled to make a noise. My heart stopped for a second. _There's somebody in the building with a fucking gun._

The crowds of people seemed to part like the Red Sea as the Moses of this situation strode through them.

"Good _evening_ , ladies and gentle- _men_." A high and comical voice cooed in announcement only seconds after the gunshot. My blood ran cold and I swallowed a lump in my throat. In an instant, I recognised the voice. The grin in his tone, the laughs leeching to his tongue, I could practically even hear the skip in his steps once the room had silenced. I shut my eyes and quietly sighed to myself, pressing the champagne glass against my forehead in irritation. One night. I wanted to be left alone for one fucking night. And he always turns up and ruins it, the bastard.

I placed my glass down on the nearest buffet table and peered over above other people who huddled together to see the infamous purple-clad clown. I dipped my head in shame, shock and embarrassment as I tried not to look at the Joker. What the hell was he doing here?

"We _are_... tonight's _entertainment,_ " He said again as he walked towards one way, and I avoided being seen by him by walking the other. "I only have _one_ question," He grumbled through a full mouth as he ate a shrimp, chewing vigorously. I cringed. "Where _is_ Harvey Dent?"

My mind pulled a blank as I tried to fully grasp an idea of why he was here. Did he plan this? Did he even know I was here? Did that shrimp taste any good?

I snorted silently to myself. Only I could find hilarity in disastrous situations like these.

The Joker continued his calm interrogation before he grabbed some poor old man by the collar. I wasn't focusing on him before so this act was random to me at the moment. I'd lost track of his voice. Of where he was. Of where I was, nearly. Joker gritted his teeth in this old guy's face and held a blade to his neck. "I _hated_ my father."

"Okay, stop." A soft, feminine voice called from the middle of the room. All eyes turned to Rachel Dawes, the assistant District Attorney, and for a moment it seemed as though a heavenly light erupted from her form, and I could nearly hear the angels chanting from above. Everybody seemed relieved, astounded at her bravery and beauty, a distraction for the Joker.

The Joker cocked his head and straightened his jacket. "Well, hello, _beautiful_." He greeted with a smile, striding towards her as he smoothed out his hair.

I bit my tongue. I was trying with all my might not to be jealous, not to care, not to feel any hatred towards her because of this madman. He'd already manipulated my decisions, I wasn't letting him manipulate my emotions. I wasn't angry that he seemed to take a liking for her- no, that was immature, and she was undeniably beautiful- but simply because he'd get bored with me. He'd dare have the gall to turn his head and leave me in ruins, leave me to clean up his mess. He'd get bored and move on and then she might feel what I feel. Desperation. Need. Hunger. The feeling of a brief adventure.

" _You_ must be Harvey's _squeeze_." The Joker said, nearing her with a knife. "And you are beautiful." I pursed my lips at the sight of the knife, feeling slightly sorry for her. I knew how it felt, to be just one gesture away from your inevitable demise. It was a scary moment, but then again, she'd gotten herself in that mess by stepping forward...

I mentally laughed at my hypocrisy.

"You look _nervous_ ," He pointed out with a fake smile. "Is it the _scars_? Wanna know how I _got_ 'em?" He offered with a suggestive nod, and all Rachel could do was hunch up in fear and intimidation. The Joker grabbed her face and ordered her to look at him, but she struggled and I held in a hiss of pain. I could remember it exactly, how rough his hands were. It felt like a Chinese burn. Even thinking about it, I felt it around my wrists again. Poor Rachel Dawes.

"Psst." Came a trembling whisper from beside me, and I looked over my shoulder to see Cassidy, nearly in tears. She looked as if she had seen the devil himself, and I must say, she was close. She'd turned pale, lifeless, totally deflated.

"Oh my God," I whispered, holding her closely to me in a tight embrace, stroking her hair. She sobbed as quietly as she could into my hair and I held her, feeling her body quake with fear. Cassidy was a claustrophobe and sadly for her, the Joker wasn't making the situation any better. We felt trapped, goons at the entrance, goons at the exit. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Then I sparked an idea. A stupid idea, but an idea so obvious I was afraid it might not've worked. "I know. Cass, follow me. Shh." I whispered and took her hand, trying to slip through the huddled up crowd without drawing attention.

"Now I'm always smiling," The Joker finished his (presumably) fake story as I pulled Cassidy towards the bathrooms. For a split second, I looked back, and in that moment, mine and Joker's eyes locked. Time stopped for a second as I saw rage bubbling in in his stare. As if I were his pet let loose of her cage. His stare said it all- you shouldn't be here. Not in a protective way, but in an angry way. He looked infuriated. I wasn't quite sure what I'd be in for later. He held a half glare with me, now distracted, Rachel feebly attacked him and he laughed. "Ha- a little _fight_ in you. I _like_ that."

I raised a brow to myself at his slipped comment. Was my reluctance attractive to him, perhaps? A sparky, little firecracker, ready to burst any second...

"Then you're gonna love me." A deep gravelly voice growled, and it belonged to nobody but the Batman.

I wish I could've seen more, but Cassidy was desperate to get out of there, and she was my priority. We rushed into the bathroom as she shoved herself over the sink, taking shaky breaths in and out, her eyes welled up with tears and she shook her head.

"Oh God," She cried. "I-I can't believe it's him. Jesus... he-he's scarier in person. He's terrifying, fucking terrifying," She sobbed, wiping her eyes as mascara trailed down her cheeks. Cassie looked over to me and her eyes drooped in shock. I held a bland expression, faking a sympathetic smile for her. "Stella," She stuttered, "Why aren't you worried?"

Worried? How could I be worried of the man I made out with constantly?

I shrugged and hugged my arms. "I am. I'm just... counting my breaths." I lied, forcing a smile as hard as I could. Cassidy's eyes brightened a little and she began counting under her breath, following my false advice.

After a few painfully long minutes, a male British voice came from outside the bathroom. "Excuse me? Anyone in there?"

I opened my mouth to speak but Cassidy squeezed in before me. "Yes! Yes- i-is it safe to come out?"

"Yes, ma'am. The Joker's gone." The man said from outside and Cassidy rushed through the door, hugging whoever was out the door. I stood in the doorway and watched as Cass clung helplessly onto Bruce Wayne's butler, sobbing softly. My bland expression still remained. The only question left to ask was- where was the Joker now? "Ah, miss," The butler hummed, catching my stare. He comfortingly yet awkwardly stroked Cassidy's hair as she wept. "I didn't know that the two of you were in there."

"Hiding," I said. "Cassidy's claustrophobic and she might've had a panic attack. If you could find her parents and have her checked up with medicals, that'd mean the world." I said gratefully, furrowing my brows.

"Will do, ma'am. What about you? Where are your parents? Is she your sister?"

"I'm... getting a lift home from my parents down the street. But, thanks. Thank you, thank you so much." I lied with a smile and Cassidy peeled herself from him to run and hold me in a tight hug. She friendly pecked my cheek and watched me as I jogged down the stairs, my heels clacking on every step. I hated leaving Cassidy like that, but I had a psychopathic clown I had to talk to.

This was all so vivid, yet it didn't seem real.

I checked my phone quickly once I'd reached the main entrance of Bruce Wayne's penthouse, and I read my messages.

 _From: J_  
 _Received at: 2:47am_  
 _Meet me round the back alley. My van's there._

I quickly deleted the text and sighed as I made my way to the dark, dank corner alley. I half expected to get mugged or raped but soon enough I saw the Joker's black van and he rolled down his window and motioned for me to get in with a 'come hither' sign of his finger. His hand gesture was very sensual yet his dark eyes glared at me cruelly, suggesting that I wasn't in for anything quite so sexy much sooner.

I swallowed hard and creeped over to the passenger's seat and got in, slamming the door shut behind me. I revelled in the heat of the van as the ignition grumbled, but I didn't have much time before my happiness ran out.

The Joker instantly threw me over into the back seat and I yelped before he lunged at me and pinned me down by my wrists, straddling me.

"Get off!" I screamed but he ignored me, digging his knees into my sides harshly. "Jac- _Joker_!"

He gritted his teeth and pressed right up against my face. "What the _hell_ were you doing in there?!" He growled like a feral dog and I whimpered, his grip around my wrists stinging me. "Keeping _secrets_ from me, hm? You, uh, going _out_ to _nice_ parties to meet _nice_ boys, _huh_?"

I desperately shook my head. "No! Joker, _please_ , cut it out!" I impishly squealed, trying to kick my legs about but Joker's weight suspended them down. What right did he have to ask if I was involving myself with other guys? I didn't belong to him- and he strutted on out there and called that Dawes girl beautiful right before my eyes, the hypocrite. "Stop." I whispered.

He saw the pleading look in my eyes and his grip loosened slightly, but he still threatened me. "I didn't _know_ you were, uh, _in_ there."

I huffed lightly. "Why'd you think I was wearing a dress for? A _party_ dress?" I sarcastically retorted and he cracked a smirk. I didn't smile. Joker stayed silent for a moment, eyeing me. I was submissively pinned down beneath him, a pervert's dream.

"Well," He said to himself, releasing my fragile wrists to run his hands down my sides. He slowly rubbed up and down through the fabric of the dress and I used all of my willpower to not moan and destroy my impression of stubborn sullenness. I didn't want him to know that I liked it. "It, uh, it _does_ look _good_ on you," He mumbled quietly and secretively, as if only the two of us were allowed to hear- which, in reality, we were. I eyed him nervously and cautiously, anticipating his next move. His large hands held my skinny waist and he moved his face up closer to mine, a playful grin on his lips at all times. " _Really_ good..." He mumbled, kissing my closed mouth. I refused to react, but my head was spinning. He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled, taking in my scent. My hands still laid above my head as he trailed his nose down to brush against my neck. "Sexy." He chuckled and planted soft kisses down my neck and across my collar bone.

I shut my eyes as my breath hitched and quickened. I parted my lips and tried to steady my breathing, to try and convince him that I didn't need his touch. That I didn't want it, that I didn't like it.

But I really, _really_ did.

Joker's fingers stroked up my sides and he eventually found the zipper on the side of the dress and began tugging on it teasingly. I tensed and put my hands delicately on his shoulders. "N-no, Joker, st-"

" _No_? You want me to _stop_?" He asked in a teasing tone, but still I gripped at his shoulders hard.

I didn't want him to stop.

"You called her beautiful," I whinged childishly, furrowing my brows. He looked at me, completely clueless. "That Dawes girl, Rachel... you-"

He tutted loudly and laughed. "Aw, _her_? Uh, puh- _lease_. She looked older than _me_ ," Joker admitted out loud, baring his teeth in a grin. " _Not_ my type," He licked his lips and smacked them together. "Are you _jealous_?"

"No, I-"

Joker laughed harder and brought a hand up to pinch my cheek, hard. "'It's not like I'm asking for a _relationshiiip_ '." He mimicked me in a whiny voice and I timidly frowned, looking away from him. Joker retreated his hands back down to my waist and stared at me softly, misleading me, before shoving the zipper down and yanking down the top of my dress past my stomach. I gasped loudly and arched my shoulders as the air hit the top of my bra covered breasts and my tummy. The Joker grinned and kissed down my neck and collar bone, then at the space just above my breasts.

"Oh my God." I yelped out in shock, my fists clenching against his clothes. I thought I was about to snap the seams. He was going much too fast. In the back of his van? I couldn't do it here, not here, not now, not like this, not-

He laughed darkly against my skin and massaged my waist, kissing down my stomach. " _See_ what all that _food_ did, Stell? _Muuuch_ less bony. _Just_ how I want ya," He muttered and I arched my back, burying my hands in his hair. I cringed as I felt his hard-on against my leg, which I tried my best to keep still. "If you weren't such a _virgin_ , I'd absolutely _ravish_ you right now."

"Right now?" I gasped out.

"Right now." He hummed just above my belly button, his dark eyes flickering up to mine.

I was about to tell him to go for it. To just, right there, fuck me senseless before I changed my mind. But that was just... it was too much. I wasn't going to commit to that.

Fondly, as he slowly kissed and nipped and licked at my skin, I carded my fingers through his hair and tied my legs around his back. I shut my eyes in bliss and stroked his hair, wishing that it weren't impossible and irrational to pursue a relationship with a psychopath.

* * *

I awoke to a grumbling noise. A comfortable grumbling noise. The familiar pitter-pattering of morning rain against a glassy surface allowed my senses peace as I slowly woke up. The small squeaking of windscreen wipers slid in rhythm to the grumbling in the background and I rose peacefully.

I winced and stretched as I opened my eyes, finding myself in the van once again. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I sat sideways in the passenger's seat, with my legs draped all the way over the Joker's lap, who was driving quietly. One hand on the wheel, the other on my knee, softly rubbing circles with his thumb. I looked down at my bare toes and curled them- they were cold, my high heeled shoes on the floor under my seat. I had the back of my head rested against the leather padded car door, but my neck crooked uncomfortably. I tucked my arms behind my head and smiled at the Joker. He looked barely awake, his makeup smudged in all sorts of directions. I cocked my head to the side and tried not to smile, but I couldn't help it. What an adventure I was having.

My stirring caught the Joker's attention and he quickly took his eyes off the deserted road and looked over at me. His hand was still on my knee, slipping it under my calf every now and then to feel my skin. It was a strange gesture, but it kept my imagination flowing at least. Trying to understand him was occupying enough.

"G'morning." Joker said, tonguing the insides of his scars, looking back out to the road.

"Good morning," I smiled fondly, playing with my nails. I looked up at him, concentration turning his gaze cold. I teasingly raised one of my legs so they obscured his view and he pushed it back down, grinning with a laugh. I softly chuckled as he slid his hand up and down my one leg, keeping me still, as if he was taming me. It didn't feel dirty, just comforting. "Where are we going?" I asked him, staring out of the driver's window at the empty Sunday morning road. I checked the digital radio clock. 8:24 am. This felt early to me.

He sighed heavily in both thought and exhaustion, and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "Not _sure_. I'm just driving _around_."

"Are we still in Gotham?"

He nodded. " _Yeah_. Crossed Queen's Bridge a _while_ ago. We're _at..._ the Bay Side. Uptown."

"Oh," I said. "Okay," And then I yawned, curling my toes again. "Can I ask you something?"

" _Go_ for it."

"Am I still allowed to touch your scars?" I curiously asked, biting my tongue.

He exhaled heavily. "You weren't _technically_ , uh, _allowed_ to touch them in the _first_ place. Uh... I don't _care_ , uh- touch _whatever_ you want- _ah_. Just _no_ questions."

My eyes lit up. _Whatever I want._

But still, I was disappointed. "Why can't I ask about them?"

He scoffed. "Some _lines_ , uh, they ain't _meant_ to be crossed. And you're stepping outta' _lotta_ boundaries as it _is,_ " Joker hummed in disapproval, but he still smirked at me. I just accepted it dully, nodding timidly. Then the Joker giggled to himself. "Hey, uh, _doll_. Y'know you, uh, you _talk_ in your _sleep_ , right?"

I raised my brows. "I do?"

"Yeah," He said, smirking to himself. " _Lovely_ to know you have a _hand_ fetish, sweets."

I nearly choked. "What?!" _That was a secret!_

"Makes _sense_ now, actually. You _want_ me to touch you, _all_ the time. I _get_ it. I, uh, I'm _more_ than happy to _oblige_ to that request," He mumbled sensually, stroking my leg teasingly. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "I'll letcha in on a little _secret_. I'm a, uh, a little of a _masochist_ , if you will. If you _want_." He suggested, pretending as though he wasn't watching me. He sucked his bottom lip. It only made sense that he enjoyed pain as much as he did sex. I wondered for a moment how he liked to be hurt. Nail digging? Neck biting? Hair pulling? Probably something way more extreme.

"I find hands artistic," I finally said. He raised his eyebrows. "Long fingers, strong knuckles, tight veins..." I giggled. "It's a bit creepy but it drives me crazy. And the things they can _do_."

"Y'know," He smacked his lips, speeding through a red light. "You're pretty, _uh_... what's the word... you're-ah, _horny_ , for a virgin," Joker cackled with laughter, slapping my leg. "I don't get why you haven't already, uh, _fucked_ someone."

I shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't found the right person. Y'know- anybody who has the same needs as I do."

"You had _boyfriends_ before?"

"Yes."

"Believable," He said. I was flattered. "Were _they_ virgins?"

"I started dating in high school. None of them were virgins... except one," I truthfully admitted. "I wasn't really that needy back then, except for my last relationship. I wanted sex. He wanted sex. But we just didn't _click_. We didn't have a lot in common, so we broke it off," I said, feeling nostalgic. "Poor guy, never spoke to him again."

Joker nodded. " _So_. Not even a _sob_ story?"

"Nope."

"No _abusive_ relationships or cheating ex- _boyfriends_?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Just... you, uh, just _missed_ your chances, then?" He assumed, licking his lips.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He hummed in interest, clicking his neck muscles. It drove me insane how he did that. " _Alright_ then. _So_ \- if _I_ were to _offer_. Like, in a few weeks _time_ , if I _offered_ , you'd just- _do it_?"

I shuddered at the thought of him touching me like that. I could hear the moans playing in my mind as I imagined it, the warmth, the sweat, the... grabbing... oh _wow_.

I swallowed. "Maybe," I said. "I suppose it all depends." I stared at him and my gaze followed the sight of his strong jaw, where the white grease paint stopped and exposed his tanned neck- it was like a blank canvas and I wanted to paint it with kisses, bites and hickeys.

"Imagine _that_ ," He giggled in amusement, turning the car down a motorway to pass time. "Your first time with a _criminal_. Tut, _tut_ ," He teased, smirking at me. "What would _mommy_ say?"

I rolled my eyes and nudged him in the ribs with my foot. He cackled mischievously in delight and slid his free hand all the way up my leg, giving the back of my thigh a playful, tight squeeze.

I squealed and giggled loudly. "Oh my God, stop!" I laughed, arching over to pry his hands away. Joker growled playfully and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to him as he tried to stop me from getting him to pull away- all whilst trying to drive. I ended up screaming in laughter as he wrapped his arm around my middle, pulling me backwards so my back was over his lap and I looked up at him. My laughs died down and I caught his smile before it shrunk down into a curious grin. His eyes flashed to the road, then to me, then to the road again.

This was all just our own little game.

* * *

 _ **Okay, so this isn't this great and it's sorta OOC and fluffy towards the end, but I tried :')**_

 _ **Also I wanted to take the time to thank you guys. You'll most likely skip this part because you probably don't care about the author's note and just want your damn smutty fanfiction already! (i feel u) But this story's way more successful than I thought it'd be (I also post this on Wattpad under the same name/username, so check that out for earlier uploads lol) , and man, I got so excited! In the short time it's been up, and the small amount of chapters it has, it's really done good for what it is!**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed!**_


	18. Chapter 18: Belongings

_**I'm so sorry for the wait, I've been trying my best to edit chapter 19 (which is a continuation of this one, so I didn't leave you all waiting for it to be continued) and it's actually over 8000 words so it's taken me a really long time... sorry :/**_

 _ **But as always, enjoy!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Belongings**

"So _tell_ me, uh, _sweet_ pea," Joker mockingly mumbled into my ear as he loomed behind me, his voice a mere whisper that uttered nothing but a dare and a mouthful of lust. I shivered and suppressed a grin as I shuffled in my desk chair, his hands on my shoulders as he massaged my shoulder blades endearingly. I chewed on my pen and felt as every finger dug into every aching crevice on my neck and shoulders, causing me to shut my eyes and lose myself for a moment. But then he spoke. "How'd you _like_ to come see a, uh, _firework_ show?" He distractedly brushed his lips and nose against my skin, nuzzling my neck, but all I did was think about what _type_ of 'fireworks' he would be setting off, rather than focusing on the pleasurable tickling of kisses down my neck. Fireworks- like, Gotham General, for example, or perhaps the GCPD. You just never knew with him.

I turned my head slightly sideways, but still not enough to see his full face, which was, as usual, all decked out in his whole clown paint and getup. "Uh... now?" I asked.

"Yeah," Joker simply said, standing back behind me. He was tall enough to rest his chin on my head and his right hand slipped over my shoulder to pick the pen from my hand, placing it down in my study book. "Come _on_. Why'd you gotta _study_ for?"

"To pass my exams." I retorted.

"Psht," He scoffed. "All they _do_ is give you a mark and _congratulations_ , you're gonna be spending the next _forty_ years of your _life_ working for _nothing_ until you grow old and _die_. Not, uh, something you're looking _forward_ to, right?" Joker rhetorically asked me, inhaling the scent of my hair. I shuddered again.

"Not... really, but-"

" _Exactly_. Have a little _adventure_. Now, put on your _shoes_ and we'll _go_." Joker urged me, slinking over to my bed and lazily laying down on it.

"I'm... um, I haven't got a bra on." I admitted sheepishly, looking down awkwardly.

"That's _even_ better," He carelessly said, causing my brows to raise. He wasn't saying it to intentionally make me laugh or cheer me up, but to hurry me, rather, as he seemed tired of waiting around and debating with me. "Now _c'mon_ , let's go."

"Where?"

"It's a _secret_ , Stella," He shot me a threatening glare, telling me wordlessly to stop asking questions. "Put on your shoes. _Now_."

I wanted to argue, furrowing my brows sadly at him in hopes of persuasion, but I knew that it was a futile attempt. By the looks of it, he wasn't having a good day and I guessed that as his friend with benefits, it was my responsibility to make things better and make _him_ feel better- within personal reason, of course. Also, arguing wouldn't have helped either of us- it would've put him in a shittier mood and put me in danger, most likely. And anyway, who would argue with the Joker, unless you were suicidal?

After another heavy, impatient sigh he gave me, I nodded indistinctly, shut my study book and put on my sneakers that were already near me on the floor. I quickly tied them up and I looked up from my feet to see Joker snooping through my wardrobe, obviously looking for something.

"What're you doing?" I asked, nearing towards him hesitantly, curiously.

"So many _questions_ , young lady," He tutted under his breath and tossed me one of my coats; dark army green with a dark faux fur lined hood. " _Here_ , put _this_ on."

"But-"

Joker snarled inwardly at my reluctance and grabbed my arm, turning me to face him. I resisted a yelp as he spread out my arms and forcefully pulled my coat on me, zipping it up rapidly afterwards. He tiredly ran his hand through his hair and hissed through his teeth, whilst I frowned apologetically at him. " _Not_ today. A'right, Stella?"

I nodded quickly and obediently, as if he were putting me in my place.

However, the tense atmosphere subsided as soon as he grinned lovingly at me, almost pleased that I was willing to hang on his every word. "Atta _girl_ ," He mussed up my hair fondly, fingers curling my locks, before I smoothed it back out neatly. "Is _mommy_ home?"

"I don't think so. If she is, she must be passed out or something. It's been quiet all night."

"Good," He hummed to himself, pressing his hand against the small of my back and pushing me out of my room in anticipation, turning the lights off and shutting the door afterwards. We went downstairs and stood in the main corridor. "My _van's_ out front, go and, _uh_ , wait inside."

"Why aren't you coming?" I stood by the front door, but didn't open it yet.

He sighed and annoyingly whispered, " _Questions_ ," under his breath before turning to me and continuing. "If you _must_ know, I forgot to bring _drinks_ , so I'm-ah, taking _yours_. _If_ you don't _mind_."

I scratched the back of my neck. "Only if you bring replacements next time you come over. And just take the Vodka," I said, stepping through the front door, but paused to turn. "Ooh, actually, I got a bottle of Jack Daniels there, bring that too."

"Right. Get in the _van_ , doll." Joker said hurriedly before making his way to the kitchen.

I jogged over to the van and got in the passenger's seat, cuddling myself up in the warmth the heaters were radiating throughout. Despite it technically being Spring, Gotham was freezing. Nobody was sure if that was just the natural climate or if Mister Freeze's presence had anything to do with it; he'd escaped Arkham a while back and nobody had found or seen him since- so nobody really knew if he was even still _in_ Gotham to begin with, but there were so many speculations and rumours circling around that nobody could decide what was true or not.

I peered out the window to see the full moon lighting up the corners of the street and illuminating the puddles left from the rain. It was bright, so bright. Brighter than I'd ever seen it before. And now these 'fireworks' Joker'd set off would steal my attention and the moon was just... I wanted to stare at it for hours.

I nearly jumped in shock as the driver's door opened, distracting me from my daze. I tensed in surprise when I saw the Joker climb in, but then relaxed after a second of realising I was fine. He handed me the two alcohol bottles and I put them by my feet as he revved up the engine, but we didn't drive yet.

"Stella," He called my name as if he were a parent about to scold me, but his hand was on my knee, making the prior thought inappropriate to think about. I raised my eyes and caught his, but his brows were crossed sternly. " _Don't_ get scared. Don't run _off_. _Don't_ scream. Don't _cry_. Don't do _anything_ to bring _attention_ to yourself if we're around _people_. And _don't_ you _dare_ tell _anybody_ you were with me, ya _hear_?"

I nodded attentively. "I hear."

"Atta girl," Joker grinned, patting my leg heavily. I blinked in shock. "If you're _good_ , I'll let you sleep in the van with _me_ tonight instead'a going, uh, _home_."

I looked down at my nails and picked off any cracking nail polish. "But I've got school tomorrow."

He shrugged and started driving out of the street. " _So_? Another day off won't _hurtcha_." He turned the wheel as the van reversed and eventually we were on the main road.

I yawned as I looked out of the window, watching other cars obliviously speed by, not being able to see who the driver was thanks to the blacked out windows. I saw pedestrians cross roads, totally unaware that they had just been let over the zebra crossing alive by Gotham's most murderous criminal. It was crazy, seeing the innocence in strangers solely because they _just didn't know_. I wondered how many times I'd been going about my daily life prior to formally meeting the Joker, if I'd ever blindly crossed paths with him before. I wondered if he was a stranger in the supermarket I'd glanced at from the corner of my eye without recognising him, or if he was the driver of a car I'd tell myself I'd cross the road once he passed. Maybe I'd subconsciously seen him out in public before, or out the window on the bus home. Maybe he'd passed the coffee shop before while I was with Cassidy, and neither of us noticed each other. I didn't believe in fate too strongly, but maybe our encounter on the bus was one of many other missed opportunities, but we'd finally met in the end.

After ten minutes Joker placed a hand on the inside of my thigh- for comfort, not as a dirty move- and pulled me slightly closer to him. I accepted it and leant my head tiredly against his arm, knowing that I wouldn't get any similar affection back. I didn't really care- I somehow enjoyed devoting my attention to him. I admired and eulogised him in a way I wasn't quite certain I could describe, a feeling, right in the very pit of my stomach that whenever I looked at him I only ever felt warmth and comfort- as strange and impossible as it sounded.

The Joker huffed in laughter to himself as my weight began to fall on his arm. "Hey, don't go falling _asleep_ now."

"I'm not," I truthfully stated, although I _was_ very tired. "How long until we get there?" I asked, despite not actually knowing where 'there' was.

He hummed to himself and drummed a finger against my leg. "Uh, another _twenty_ minutes yet. You like _car_ rides, huh?"

I nodded and smiled nostalgically. "When I was little, we went to Disney- my mom, my auntie, my cousin and I. It was nighttime, a bit like this, and we were in the car, just... driving," Then I chuckled. "I was so disappointed when we got there just because I didn't wanna leave the car. Goddamn _Disney_ , J," Joker lightly laughed with me, then it was silent for a few moments before I caught him grinning to himself. "What?"

"No, _nothing_ ," He brushed it off but he still smiled. "It's _just_ , uh... you _never_ call me J."

"It sounds more... natural than Joker, normal- no offence," I quickly added, then bit my lip. Then I bravely asked, "Why can't I call you Jack?"

The hand on my thigh tensed a little and his fingers shallowly dug into my skin. "Just-ah, _don't_. Mister J, J or Joker. I'm _pretty_ sure the first one is corny enough to make you wanna, uh, _not_."

"Mister J?" I giggled teasingly, raising a brow. "Who the hell decided that was a good idea?"

"Uh... some _girlfriend_ ," He muttered. " _Ex_ girlfriend," He included, as if to reassure me in some way that there weren't any other girls. Somehow, I believed him, but I didn't exactly want to depend entirely on the idea. I nodded, yawning a little. "Hang on a _little_ longer. We're _almost_ there."

"But I'm so tired. You just _had_ to pick the middle of the night to take me out?" I whined, rubbing my eyes.

Joker scolded me and tapped my thigh. "Stop _whining_. Some, uh, _drinks_ and a little _bang'll_ wake you up."

I paused. "Bang?"

"Oh," He awkwardly mumbled. "I mean _fireworks_ bang. Not-ah, _you_ , uh, _bang_. Although..." He teasingly sing-songed and slowly ran a hand up my leg. "I'd _love_ me a slice of your _cake_."

I softly laughed and gently shoved him. "Stop it, that's so cheesy."

"Just a _little_?"

"No, stop it."

" _C'mon_ ," He smirked at me and turned the wheel, driving down a wavering road. "How about the, uh, the _cherry_ on top instead? If _y'know_ what I _mean_." Joker giggled crazily and nearly drove off the road as he clutched his sides in loud, howling laughter.

I turned a shade of deep red and sat up straight so I wasn't leaning on him anymore. Joker pulled up down an alley to stop the car and continued laughing, wiping his eyes for dramatical effect. He caught me watching him and instead of glaring or scolding me, he leant back in his seat and patted his lap invitingly, soft giggles still exiting his lips. I watched him with a cautious and shy stare as his laughs died down to huffed chuckles and I timidly crawled over on his lap, straddling him as I most usually did (and enjoyed). He inwardly groaned in pleasure to himself as his hands teased their way up the sides of my hips and he held them gently, even though I was wearing my coat. Joker sucked at his bottom lip thoughtfully and watched my eyes, which watched his actions and expressions just as conscientiously. Half his face was pitch black from the shadows of the alley and the other half was lit up by the moonlight that sank down from the sky. His tongue slid delicately along the inside of his cheek and he just watched me. Not knowing what to do, I draped my arms around his neck and teased the ends of his hair, but my face was expressionless.

Joker finally said something, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Huh. Your eyes are _grey_."

I blinked and laughed awkwardly. "Uh... well, that's what I was born with."

He cocked his head to the side. "I thought they were, uh, _blue_ ," He mumbled, more to himself than to me. I watched his Addams Apple shift in his throat as he swallowed. "Weird how I _never_ noticed."

"I never thought you noticed anything. Or gave a damn."

"Gave a damn about _what_?"

"Me." I muttered, but wished I hadn't. It was so embarrassing, letting him know that I actually _cared_. We weren't even in a relationship, I just wanted to kiss him sometimes and let him pull my hair while he was doing it. He'd gotten me into this messed up situation, into this disaster plan. And I goddamn cared for him.

Joker tutted and brushed my hair out of my face, rolling his eyes. "God, I _care_. I mean, _love_ is, uh, _definitely_ out of the question, uh... but I _care_. I need _some_ company, don't I?" He sympathetically cooed, but it was more to calm me down and get me to forget the catastrophe of a relationship that I was involving myself in rather than to reassure himself. " _Nobody_ wants to be _lonely_ , Stell." He whispered alluringly, tracing a finger along my jawline.

I sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"And you _are_ good, uh, _company-_ whatever. Not to mention a good _kisser_." He winked and chuckled, and I took a deep breath, exhaling heavily.

"Yeah," I said. "You too."

The Joker sighed in unamusement and pinched my cheek, hard, but I barely flinched. "Aw, _c'mon_ , sweet cheeks. Why so _glum_?" He said in almost a mocking tone, but I didn't look over it too much.

"I have no idea." I replied honestly, tilting my mouth to the side.

It was silent for a moment before his hand slipped through my hair, holding the very top of the nape of my neck. "Kiss me." He ordered with a stern mumble.

I did exactly as I was told; cradling the back of his neck and leaning into him tightly, I kissed him and we warmed up, his hands grabbing my thighs. Our mouths slowly moved together as lips knotted and unknotted, twining and untwining, and our tongues mingled gently and softly.

Sirens wailed past and the Joker groaned in my mouth- both out of annoyance because of the interrupting sounds and out of pleasure from the way I'd rocked my hips against his, making my insides feel warmer in return.

I loved kissing him as much as I'd ever loved kissing anybody, but the Joker was different. For once, I felt a response. For once, we felt like equals- and I'd never felt that with anybody before. All my past boyfriends but one weren't virgins, and I felt beneath them, I felt like every kiss asking me to open up more than just my mouth shrunk down my size every time. I felt like I owed them something. Then my last virgin boyfriend, I felt nothing. Not a spark. We never seemed like we were kissing, just two bored, lonely mouths brushing up against one another. But with the Joker... I felt _fireworks_. Tiny little sparks, like popping candy, but in my brain and in my stomach and the taste lasting in my mouth- winning him over was like an adventure and I was still going. We felt like equals because for a short five minutes, we stooped down low to another level. I went from my stubborn, level headed self to a vulnerable, wanting wreck; and the Joker from his remorseless, psychopathic murdering personality down to someone with emotion and attention for someone other than himself. We were so different yet somehow, in some way we managed to fit together like a key in a lock.

And he pulled away. Just like that, back up to our normal selves. Locked back up again.

The Joker breathed heavily and rested his head back against the seat as I took in much needed air, sorrowfully avoiding his eye contact as I looked around. Joker's hands were still on my thighs as he stroked circles with his thumbs, as I brought mine sliding back down his chest, eventually into my lap.

"Y'know," Joker finally heaved out, patting my thigh, "You're a damn _good_ distraction."

I looked into his eyes, but eventually stared straight through them. I saw nothing. I was blank. "Yeah," I said. "You too."

Seeing as I wasn't responding any more to his comment, his tone softened, as if to pity me. "You shouldn't, uh, _have_ to go _through_ all this. Y'know. _Following_ me like my own-ah, _shadow_."

My eyes finally met his. I narrowed my glare and raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"In the _kindest_ of ways, sweets, you _don't_ seem like you have _much_ to do with your life besides _please_ me."

"I don't." I admitted honestly. And it was true, and when his gaze finally held mine, he knew it too. My mom had obviously left me for someone she was screwing at work, either drunk or away, and Cassidy had slowly started to retreat out of my life after the party, after the Joker had yet again caused a conundrum in my life. That's exactly what he did- he swept everything and everyone I'd had in my life to one corner and turned the spotlight to him, making sure I'd focus on him and him alone. And boy, did it work. He was the only one I had left.

"Huh," He mumbled under his breath, his hand coming to contact with my neck. He brushed parts of my hair away and his fingertips teased the top of my neck before he sighed. "How _long_ d'you intend to, uh, stick _around_ for?"

I bit my lip anxiously. "I don't know. Until you get bored with me, I suppose."

" _Well_ ," Joker hissed tiredly. "That ain't gonna be for a _while_ ," And then he smirked, his mouth evil, yet his eyes kind. The hand that previously resided on my neck was now cupping my chin, his thumb softly toying with my kiss-swollen lips. "You're just a _sparky_ little _firecracker_. Oh... _firecracker_... just too _curious_ for your own _good_ , aintcha?" He mumbled partly under his breath, his eyes fixated on my lips, his words tying me down under his seductive voice, making me totally vulnerable.

Still, his last comment stayed on my mind. "Why would it be a while 'til you get bored?" I quietly asked, half hesitating.

Joker smirked and clicked his tongue in thought. "You're-ah, _unique_. See, like _most_ women, they just _can't_ resist _this_ ," He motioned to his face and grinned, flattering himself. "But _you_. You, my little _ace_ of _spades_ , you, uh, _try_ to resist it. Resist _me_ ," He smacked his lips before tracing my own with his thumb. "And you _know_ you can't. One day, you're gonna _break_. And I'll _show_ you how, you'll see."

"I'm trying to resist getting hurt in the long run." I said, my breaths beginning to thicken as I watched the words he uttered leave his lips.

"Mmm," He hummed. "Now, _unless_ you play by _my_ rules and you play _fair_ , we _know_ that's-ah... _inevitable_ ," The Joker whispered, his lips nearing mine again, noses barely touching. "Just be a _good_ girl and play _nice_."

"This is the nicest I've ever played," I huskily breathed against his lips, urging desperately to take them with mine. "I'm giving myself over to a psychopath." I reasoned with him, my voice wavering as I began to crack, the fragile shards of my sanity beginning to crumble.

" _Criminal_. Just call me a _criminal_." Joker snarled quietly, clearly annoyed by my choice of words. He didn't like me labelling him as a nutcase.

"In the end, it's still something I shouldn't be doing."

Joker groaned in agreement but nodded with a grin, growling flirtatiously and pulling me forward into him by my legs. "Mmm, but you _want_ to do it."

"Yeah." I agreed, managing to slip in a quick kiss before he pulled me back.

"You _want_ to?" Joker asked me- not as reassurement, but as a new, genuine question- staring into my gaze, as if staring into what was left of my soul. It was a cold feeling yet it made my thoughts warm and the butterflies in my tummy never ceased whenever he looked at me.

"Want to what?" I asked unsurely, gripping his shoulders.

"Give yourself _over_." He explained.

"To you?" My brows raised and I felt lightheaded as I grew excited. My fingers clenched around the material of his clothes.

"To me." He assured me.

"Are you asking me out?" I unsurely narrowed my eyes, yet I knew what my answer already was.

The Joker just licked the insides of his scars and brought me closer to him. "Call it what you _will_ , you _belong_ to _me_ anyway." He chuckled huskily before kissing me hard and rough, my lips and head and hands growing sore.

I had to pull back immediately, hesitant to his decree. "I didn't even say yes."

Joker smirked, ignoring my reluctance. He'd already won. "You didn't _have_ to." And we kissed again.

* * *

 _ **So... "my little ace of spades"... see what I did? Eh? (in reality I wrote this waaaay before I ever even thought up of a title, in fact when I uploaded chapter 1 I was already working on chapter 25- and I liked that quote a lot ;) some backstory for ya. )**_


	19. Chapter 19: Fireworks

_**I hope you like smut. You better hope you do, it's a big one, with much more on its way. ;')**_

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Fireworks**

 _(continued from chapter 18)_

There was a hill in Uptown Gotham, a hill with a single oak tree sat there. On that hill you could sit down and look out, and spy everything even from miles away, buildings you never realised existed, and places you'd been told never to visit. You could see pretty much everything- Wayne Tower, the radio tower, the Narrows- especially an old warehouse previously owned by mob boss Roman Sionis.

That was where the supposed firework show would start.

I looked over to the Joker, who was sat about a foot beside me, as he stared out at the warehouse, carefully fiddling with a button detonator in his right hand. I didn't necessarily like that he was going to blow something up. I didn't like that people were going to get hurt. I didn't like that his need to destruct stretched as far as demolishing an entire building and setting others down in a domino effect, but I knew it wasn't my place to argue. He held the detonator after all, not me. He called the shots, I was simply there to watch.

I hugged myself and tucked my knees to my chest in attempt to keep warm. It was quite difficult, as Gotham's climate wasn't exactly ideal and I couldn't look to Joker for aid because he was 'busy' figuring out when the right time was to blow the building up. And all he did was stare at it, glaring, as if trying to see if he could explode it with the sheer will of his hatred. I peered over along his lips and saw that he was mumbling to himself, something about it being 'a better ending to a great night', but I wasn't quite sure what he meant by it, even if I'd heard him correctly,

Simply shrugging the thought off, I took my phone out of my pocket and immediately, Joker shot me a glare.

"Whadd'ya _doing_?" He asked suspiciously, if not threateningly.

I sighed heavily, a little fed up of his paranoia at this point. "I'm past the point of ratting you out, calm down," I said, making him tut and look back out at the warehouse in the distance. "Just wanted to check the time and play some Flappy Bird."

It was gone 2:30 in the morning and I wasn't even tired anymore. The alcohol we brought hadn't really taken much effect but it woke me up alright. I wasn't intending on getting drunk, but I was thirsty and we hadn't brought any other types of drinks so I was forced to down Vodka and Jack Daniels every two minutes, which didn't feel all that great.

I kept on losing at that goddamn Flappy Bird game, and to guise my irritation, I turned my phone off and simply put it back in my pocket. Joker looked at me, then away, then took a double take and stared at me. Then he motioned me over with his hand and patted his lap, a sign that he wanted me over there. I crawled over to him and laid my head in his lap as he just stared down at me blandly. I cracked a small encouraging smile as I looked up, desperate to touch his scars, but I was too scared of asking. He was much too nice to look away from, much too detailed and alive.

" _Two_ more minutes," Joker said and buried a hand in my hair. "Then we're going _back_ to the _van_. I'm _freezing_." He complained, softly stroking my hair.

"Then what?" I asked in a gentle, quiet voice, not wanting to ruin the soft silence that was exchanged between us.

The Joker licked his lips. " _Maybe_ , uh, sleep _in_ the _van_. Maybe take you back _home_. Depends-ah."

"Depends on what?" I childishly asked, smiling playfully. The look of disappointment on his face didn't last long, as he couldn't help but crack a tiny grin.

"Whether you _behave_ or _not_ -ah. Now be _quiet_. I'm con- _cen_ -trating," He tiredly mumbled, rubbing his eyes but pulling his hands back to see that his fingertips were black with paint. "Dammit." He hissed under his breath and wiped his hands in his trousers. I curiously touched my lips, wondering if I had paint on them from kissing him. Being too shy to ask him whether I did or not, I instead stayed quiet and looked up at the clouded black sky in attempt to distract my concern for him. The Joker looked out, the detonator in his hand again and his thumb brushing across the button with a feather-like touch, waiting for the right moment to blow it all up. If only I knew what the true need to destruct felt like, and I might've sympathised with him.

I indistinctly sighed to myself, not at all loud enough for him to hear. How did _I_ feel about the situation? Not the whole explosion thing- I meant _us_. Me and him. I couldn't tell apart hate from love anymore; or genuine feelings from just physical attraction. My emotions were in a frenzy and were changing almost every day, I missed him when he was gone and I loved it when he was there and I needed him, he was always on my mind and I felt like a twelve year old girl having a crush for the first time. I didn't _want_ to like the Joker, but I did anyway and there was no changing that, no matter how much I wanted to or how hard I tried. It didn't feel good, knowing that the man I was obsessing over was a murderer, a psychopath and a criminal- it made me feel just as crazy as he was and I knew for a hard, solid fact that I was going to be hurt in the long run. Hurt so bad. It was like each day my reason slowly decayed and by the time he'd finally get bored and leave me, I'd forget what sanity even was.

"Stella."

My thoughts silenced as my focus went to the Joker, who looked at me with a slight gleam in his eye. I knew by his tone of voice that it wasn't the first time he'd called my name. "Hm?" I replied, pursing my lips.

He smiled excitedly. "It's _time_ , sit _up_ , look, look, _look_ ," He urged me, tugging on my coat impatiently as I sat upright from his lap and shuffled to sit next to him. His hands shook with anticipation as he held the detonator, his thumb hovering over the button. He stared out over the view, and I did too, taking in the lights and the cars and the nightlife and the one warehouse that was about to be blown to smithereens. The Joker slung an arm over my shoulder, pulling me to his side. The gesture was somewhat nice for a person like him, but his grip was ridden with anxiousness and I knew he just couldn't _wait_. "Nice _view_ , ain't it?" He asked me, not once blinking or taking his eyes off the city that sat in front of us.

"It's beautiful." I mumbled in agreement, my eyes growing wide in awe as I took in the sight. I loved cities, and the one thing I loved about Gotham was how it looked in the night. It was an awfully dangerous city at night and I hated having to stay there, but just to look at it, the sights and the buildings and the lights... you'd never guess it was such a hateful, violent place to be, full of madness and rotting and delusion.

The Joker smacked his lips and gestured the detonator to me. I stared at it hesitantly then at him, wordlessly asking why he'd offered it to me. He licked his lips and offered it to me again. " _Press_ it." He said, not forcefully or threateningly, just encouragingly, temptingly.

I looked at the detonator. So small- it barely took up any space of the Joker's palm- yet it could create endless destruction. One press and chaos and death would be unleashed. I curiously reached out but avoided touching the detonator, as if I thought it'd burn me or kill me with one brush of a finger. "I can't do that." I softly told Joker, pulling my hand away slowly.

"No, no, _no_ , c'mon, _do_ it," Joker persuaded, holding it closer and closer to me but I refused. Then he stopped and stared at me as if he just didn't _understand_ me. "I don't _get_ it. It won't _hurtcha_."

"But it'll hurt other people. I don't wanna be responsible for that." I explained, brushing my hair from my face.

"You'd be doing them a _favour_ if anything. So _press_ it. C'mon, just a _little_ press," He near pleaded but one last reluctant shake of my head put him off. The Joker huffed in disappointment and rolled his eyes. "A'right, a'right, _fine_. _I'll_ press and _you_ , uh, _hold_." He decided, shoving the detonator in my hands. They grew shaky with worry and anxiety, stressing about the mass damage I could make with one wrong press, one accidental twitch.

"Wait-"

"You'll _thank_ me _later_ , princess," He smirked and winked at me, roughly pulling me closer again and shoving a kiss against my head. "I'm _involving_ you."

I didn't want to be involved in whatever he was doing, but I couldn't argue with him. He wanted me to, so I did. There was no turning him around. At least I wasn't the one pushing the button.

I held the detonator tightly and his hand clasped over mine, steadying my trembles still. I quickly took advantage of his distracted concentration and glanced at him admirably, taking in his features before looking out at the warehouse. Joker's thumb lay atop the button and finally, with one quick click, he pushed the button and...

Nothing happened.

"Uh..." I awkwardly mumbled, fearing that if it didn't work he'd be livid. "It didn't-"

He grinned madly and shushed me immediately. " _Nah_ , watch now, watch, _watch_!"

I did as I was told obediently and stared back out and heard a grumbling noise seconds before the warehouse grew dusty and all of a sudden- it blew up. The whole thing flew apart in a red cloud of flames and dust and just like that, it was destroyed. I was nearly horrified, that was until _actual_ fireworks started going off, rising into the night sky and bursting in a rain of colours, making my mouth widen in awe and my heart pound faster and faster. The whole warehouse must've been jam packed full of them, as it all seemed never ending; the sky started to look like a drug trip, flurries and swirls of light and colour exploding in the air, dancing to the sounds of screams and sirens and burning flames and the Joker's laugh. Oh, he was insane. He was crazy. But I was crazier for thinking how beautiful the scene was. I could barely see the stars anymore with the violent miasma of colours that persisted and I thought it was euphoric.

The Joker's laugh varied from chuckles to outright hysterics, and through every giggle not once did he ever let go of me. Each heavy gasp he took pulled me along with him as I was crushed into his side, and it barely bothered me. It hurt a lot, yes, but the pain was numbed by the mere sight of the fireworks and the adrenaline I felt. I tried to turn to look at him but I was trapped in his grip, yet I could still catch sight of his lips, the red paint mixing with the light of the fireworks, illuminating his face.

But, much to my great dismay, every burst began slowly dying down and less and less of the fireworks began flying up after a minute. Joker's laughs slowed to short huffs of chuckles, and as I watched the last firework screech upwards and pop climactically, he stopped laughing, instead filling the settling silence with heavy breaths and panting.

We sat there for a good five minutes without saying a word, watching as the flames around the warehouse began being put out by the fire department. I was dazed, my mind void of all thoughts but awe. I was so silently ecstatic, never had I ever felt myself overwhelmed with so much energy before. It was all so, so gorgeous, yet I didn't want to see the fireworks again. I didn't want any new memory to take place of this one. I just wanted to live it, in the here and now.

The Joker eventually hummed out a thick sigh, discarding the now useless detonator over on the grass. The arm that was looped around my side loosened a little, his excited grip on me finally gentling. I found that opportunity to rest my head against his shoulder out of exhaustion. I felt like my mind had simply melted from the overwhelming emotion that had overtaken me mere moments ago. He smacked his lips and yawned, resting his cheek against my head, just as emotionally drained as I was.

Joker spoke. "That was, uh... _good_ , wasn't it?"

"Amazing," Was the only word I could breathe out. "Absolutely amazing."

"Now, uh, I bet _no one's_ taken you out on a _date_ like _this_ before, huh?" He lightly chuckled, poking my side playfully. The word 'date' made my stomach flutter and I didn't know why, but perhaps it was somewhat nice hearing him use common, mundane terms. 'Dating' sounded funny coming from his mouth. 'Dating' was a word that surely must've left a strangely sweet sour taste on his tongue. 'Dating' gave me hope.

"No," I almost whispered, shutting my eyes momentarily. "No they haven't."

The Joker hummed in agreement and brushed his nose in my hair. Did I care if I got paint in it? No, not really. "You, uh, _liked_ this then?"

I was about to say yes, but a thought came over me that I couldn't get out of my head, and it was stuck there. I had to say it, I had to ask, I had to _do it_. "Y'know what'd make it better?" I rhetorically asked, lifting my head to look up at him.

His eyes locked with mine and he smiled a little. "What?"

I leaned close to him and with noses touching, I stared down through my lashes at his lips, and just how bad I wanted to kiss him. I resisted the urge but I couldn't help but breathe in his scent; the familiar smell of gasoline and smoke and just the slight hint of sweet alcohol. Jesus, his smell was the one thing that absolutely drove me crazy. Now more than ever, I needed him, I _wanted_ him, and God, did it feel wrong in _all_ the right ways.

"Take me home." I breathed out desperately against his lips, as if he were sucking the life out of me.

"What?" Joker asked, clearly confused at my sudden change of attitude.

"Take me home," I rushed and quickly kissed him. " _Now_."

Without complaining or asking any further questions, he lifted me in his arms and carried me back down the hill, all the way back to the van. He opened the passenger's side and put me down, slamming the door shut. I fumbled my hands about anxiously and impatiently as he got in and started the engine up, barely able to keep my anticipation to myself.

The Joker gave me a strange look at my fidgeting but didn't say anything about it, and instead tried to awkwardly make conversation. "The, uh, _engine_ takes a while to warm _up_ the _van_ , so-"

"I don't care, just drive," I snapped desperately, causing him to furrow his brows. "Please, just drive." I whined, pawing at him frantically.

" _A'right_ , a'right, I _will_." He rushed to his defence, pulling out of the alley and driving down through the city.

We slowly passed by the demolished warehouse to admire the Joker's handiwork, seeing the smoke and the dust rise from the dead flames. Cars and emergency vehicles surrounded the area and if I weren't so needing of his attention in that moment, I would've liked to look at it a little longer to see what exactly he'd done. What _we'd_ done.

Eventually, we drove towards my street and saw no sight of my mom's car, meaning that the house was all mine for the night. _Perfect_.

Before the Joker could even pull up to park I'd began unzipping my coat hurriedly and shoved it off, not caring where in the van I left it. Joker kept on glancing double takes to look at me and he looked downright astounded when I tried to straddle him in the middle of him parking the van. I stretched my arms out for him but he raised his brows and pulled the vehicle up to a stop before I could make him crash it. " _Woah_ , woah, _woah_ , what're you-"

I was instantly straddling him and I kissed him hard, my hands gripping to take off his jacket, which he gladly shrugged out of for me. As soon as it was out of the way, I grabbed his face with my hands and let his tongue explore my mouth as I stroked his rippled scars. He groaned heavily into my mouth and felt around for the bottom of my shirt but I stopped him, pulling back. "My mom's not ho- _oh_..." My voice stuttered and broke as he instantly latched his mouth to my neck, pulling me closer to him. My fingers left his face as I gripped onto his shoulders, probably nearly breaking the seams in his shirt. My lips parted and I moaned when he bit and sucked at my skin, no doubt leaving on me whatever territorial mark he wanted to claim me as his play-thing. After each hickey he moved down my neck to make the next and I rocked against him libidinously, making him groan in response. " _Jack_..." I called out lustfully, but stiffened as I felt him stop beneath me, eventually pulling his mouth away from my skin. My stomach churned with anxiety as I processed the name I had just so sweetly moaned. "Oh God," I stammered awkwardly, searching for any other words to say. "I'm sorry... I-"

"Say it again." He demanded, one hand at the back of my neck so our faces were level.

"What-?" I began to object but instantly felt his hand press against a place between my legs it had _never_ touched before, and I yelped out in another moan. "Jack!"

" _That's_ more like it." He snarled dirtily and kissed me roughly, not allowing me a moment's breath as his tongue found mine. His free hand felt around the van door for the handle and shoved it open before lifting me by my legs and getting us out of the car. I had to pull back for breath and I hugged myself around his neck as Joker rushed to my front door and opened the unlocked door, going in from the cold.

Instantly, I was shoved hard against the shut front door and we kissed again passionately as I linked my legs around his back, kicking my shoes off. He giggled maniacally against my lips and I laughed back between heavy breaths, feeling the insanity of this spur of the moment while he carried me up the stairs, holding me up by my thighs.

We got to my bedroom door and he groaned. "Open _that_ for me, _doll_." And I did as he said, using the heel of my foot to press down the handle and I giggled childishly, kicking the door open.

He merely smirked before stepping in and setting me down on my bed with a slight thump, the bed slightly bouncing at the sudden weight, as he climbed on top of me. I released a shrill laugh before he set each hand by either side of my body and leant in, biting and kissing at my neck. "Joker-" I stuttered before hesitating. "I mean-"

" _Shush_ ," He reassuringly moaned against my throat and bit down as he smirked. "Less _talking_ , more..." His teeth bared out against my skin with a smile. "... _fucking_." My tummy fluttered at his words and I gripped his shoulders, nervous and excited and so full of adrenalin that my head began to spin and I needed some form of reassurance that I wasn't dreaming.

I pulled Joker away and brought him back up to me, kissing him again. All I felt were his hands holding my face, then sliding down my torso before I could even stop him- not that I wanted to. I shivered when his rough, calloused fingers brushed my tender rib cage and I arched my back, my lips and my tongue tangling deeper with his. Our lips never stopped moving. Our eyes never opened. We just kissed and kissed and it never really stopped; one minute felt like an hour at this point, and time just simply stopped existing, my mind spiralling into a place that most people called... _ecstasy_.

Joker's hands were the only thing I felt anymore. I felt like I had pins and needles every time he touched me, and it was an addictive feeling that controlled my mind and shoved me to my knees at his mercy. I pulled back momentarily and between quick kisses, I whimpered, begging "Please... I _need_ you."

I heard a low, throaty, almost sadistic chuckle and his smooth honey voice smiled against my lips and said, "Shh, you'll get me _now_ , Stell."

It was dark, most things were shadows, but I saw him, only him, and I saw the way his eyes lit up, and the way he smiled, and the way he looked at me. The way he looked at me made me melt. It was not the same look that was exchanged in romance movies; it was not the same look that people in love described as 'pure'; and it was not the same look that a man would give to the greatest and most beautiful woman alive- no, this was a look that a stupidly naïve young woman received from a psychopath. A look given to a pathetically delusional girl by a nutcase who, for once in his life, was vulnerable. This was a look that was pasted on by a smile but was filled with a glare, a lovingly hateful look that said, 'you make me weak'. And to have such a malicious scowl directed at me was the best thing that I'd ever had given to me in years.

The Joker had himself propped up on his hands above me as the look began to fade from his face, instead replaced with a need to touch more and kiss more and grind more and do _more_. My legs knotted with his, and our chests only just barely touched. I could feel his heartbeat mesh with mine and I didn't know which was mine and which was his, and I eventually lost count as they began to pump at the exact same time. It was so madly strange yet reassuring, and I felt so impure to think just how much I was romanticising the scene. No, he wasn't here for love, and neither was I.

I brought him down closer to my lips and I kissed him again, getting an instant reaction from him. Our kisses started slow, my hands tangling in his scraggly hair and his clawing and curling around my middle.

We pulled back to breathe and I let him nuzzle into the crook of my neck. I stroked his hair fondly and I stared up ahead at the ceiling, realising just how easy it was to lose myself in bliss and unplug from reality. Who knew that one kiss could lead me to a place I'd never ventured before?

"Joker?"

" _Mmm_?" His hums vibrated against my neck, causing a smile to pull at my mouth.

I sucked at my bottom lip and my hand rested on the back of his neck. I wish there were a less stupid way of saying what I wanted to, but practically every word known to the English language sounded foreign to me at this point. "I really... like you." I pathetically mumbled. What I actually wanted to say wasn't 'I love you' or anything close to that, but I wanted to say something to let him know that he was actually toying with my emotions and not just some wanton whore who wanted to do this for the fun of it. I didn't want him to just have his wicked ways with me and then never see a glimpse of him again. As deplorably romantic and in love I sounded, how cliché and innocent, how much of a frigid virgin I seemed to be who wanted things to be special and wonderful- which all of them I were hopefully not- I wanted him to realise that I was... just a girl. I wasn't some klepto from the Narrows or some woman he'd met down by a warehouse after a murder, I wasn't anybody exciting or unique or dangerous or scandalous with a spicy personality of her own to justify why the hell she'd decided to have sex with a killer; I was simply a girl who'd just so happened to have met him in the wrong place at the wrong time, and who got herself into more trouble by being nice and normal than being any of the prior things would've. I was just a girl. And I wanted him to know that I was just a girl.

Joker laughed and turned me to face him. " _'Like'_ ain't gonna getcha _anywhere_ , toots," He said quietly, kissing my jawline with every breath I shook out. "Just _say_ it."

It was hard to even say anything, I was so stunned. This was so different. What I felt. And I wasn't talking about the feeling of emotions, I was talking about the feeling between my legs...

So instead of words I let out a short, soft moan; his lips smiled against my neck as he kissed lower and lower. " _Jesus_ , you've just got a, uh, _gorgeous_ little voice, don'tcha?" He held in a laugh and started giving open mouthed kisses and light sucks on my neck.

I gasped into his clothed shoulder and grasped tightly at his shirt, my legs instinctively curling around his torso. "Please..."

"Mmm?" He wordlessly asked, pressing his body tighter against my own and it drove me crazy. I couldn't take it any longer; I managed to squeeze my hands in the tiny space between us and I immediately pulled his tie off and tossed it to the floor.

Startled and at the same time, seemingly excited, he retreated from my neck. " _Oh_... you wanna do this _now_?" He asked, almost impressed at how quickly I was moving, how persistent I was behaving, how idiotically wrong I was being.

I didn't reply, only nodded eagerly and kissed him harder.

 _Imagine that your first time with a criminal tut tut what would mommy say tut tut tut tut tut_

It was as if everything became fast and rough from then on- all blurry. It excited me; I'd never gotten this far with a guy before... and I _wanted_ it. I wanted _him_. I wanted him _so_ bad. It was the fact that I _got_ to have him was what drove me absolutely nuts for him. Me, of all people, got to have him, of all people. I could have him all to myself... and hell, he could take whatever he wanted from me.

Joker shuffled me around and his hands slipped into the waistband of my jeans, pulling them down without a moment's hesitation. I helped him, slipping my legs out and he threw my jeans to the floor. We both rose and propped up to sit on our knees, and our hands roamed over nearly every inch of each other. My hands grasped his face and my thumbs stroked his scars, causing a long groan to escape his mouth against mine; his hands snaked up my waist and back down, wrapping around the back of my bare thighs to pull me closer against him. My laughter was cut off when his tongue slipped in my mouth and tangled with mine, trying to coax a reaction out of me.

I pulled back for barely a second, to look at him. I was smiling on the inside. My heart was pounding in my head. I gazed at him, never breaking eye contact.

 _Yes_. I was so sure. I was absolutely positive. As crazy and insane and absolutely irrational it sounded, I knew for a solid fact that I would never regret a single second of this, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I'd get to live my whole life knowing that I'd lost my virginity to Gotham's most feared psychopath, and it excited the living hell out of me.

Joker eventually smirked and dipped his head a little to catch my lips, and I was reminded again that it didn't matter what I was committing myself to, he always found a way to grab my attention and to make me want him, no matter how bad he was or what bad he did. I mumbled against his open lips, my hand running down his biceps and lower. I whispered to him. "I want to."

Those three words lit something, the mood immediately grew hot and fast, the kisses becoming sloppier and harder, our hands becoming less and less tender with each stroke, but each one still being pleasurably enticing.

My hands fumbled down his chest and found the buttons of his shirt, and I made no hesitation to skip my fingertips along and unbutton each one. Once it was unbuttoned, Joker stopped touching me for a moment to shrug his shirt off whilst kissing me still, and he balled the shirt up and threw it across the room with no regards of where it landed. As soon as it hit the floor his hands connected with my skin nearly instantly and I arched my back in surprise. His hands slid up slowly and further up my ribs, and his kisses slowed down... he stopped kissing me... and then he stayed back to just look at me, his fingers still sending shivers up my spine.

Then, gently and patiently, almost torturously... his hands slipped further up my shirt and cupped my breasts, taking his sweet, sweet time, as if he were judging them by how they felt. His eyes drooped shut in satisfaction like he'd gotten exactly what he'd expected, and I swore he even smiled, but within a hair's width of him touching me I'd already doubled over and gasped shakily, grabbing onto his shoulders with all of my might. Never in my entire life had anyone touched me like that, it was so... it felt like a static shock. I held in whimpers and groans as he dipped his head down and kissed me again, still squeezing and massaging my tits, more to his satisfaction than my pleasure.

With nearly a single swipe, I was in just my panties and my shirt was off and had joined the growing pile of clothes on my bedroom floor. During kisses and dirty touching, I glanced at the pile and realised that our clothes actually looked _much_ better on the floor, knowing that there was a short story as to why they were there. I looked back after he'd pulled away to see he was still gently squeezing my rack and all he did was stare at them with a small sideways grin, muttering to himself tiny little judgements that, by the lustfully dopey look on his face, were all positive, praising me and my genetics.

Joker eventually realised that I was waiting, and I was finally on my back against the mattress again as he pushed me back down. Joker didn't take his time to move his mouth where he wanted to, rushing to my neck instantly, trailing much lower. Before I could collect my thoughts his tongue was teasingly wrapped around my right nipple and his hand squeezed and fondled my other breast. Without thinking or trying to hold back, I let out a loud moan and I clawed at Joker's bare and muscled shoulders.

"Mmm..." He kissed up my chest and grinned flirtatiously, joining my lips again. "Now that's _exactly_ what I like to hear." Butterflies swam in my stomach at his words. He was too damn good with words, he had a silver tongue.

He kneaded my tits again and I kissed up his scars and down his neck, sucking and biting eagerly to please him. Joker let out a low, shaky groan and rolled his hips against mine, making me return a moan against his shoulder from contact.

"Joker..." Was the first name of many others of his that popped into my head, and it was actually quite surprising for me to say it. Jack was a mundane name, the Joker was a psychopath. Yet I moaned _his_ name. Why the change of heart all of a sudden? "Joker." I said again, mostly to myself. I... liked the sound of it. It seemed more real to me.

"Don't wear it _out_ , Stell..." Joker teased, sliding his fingers down across my hipbones. I sighed in pleasure as my hips bucked up to meet his crotch again. I could feel him, hard. This wasn't fair. He was teasing me. Taunting me. Waiting until I fell apart. I was so eager, I was in the mood, the _real_ mood this time, and he just took too _long,_ despite being ready.

I whimpered and whined quietly in protest, my hands sliding down his muscular chest and finding the belt of his trousers... was I _really_ doing this?

Joker's hands grasped mine and pinned my wrists above my head. "Uh _uh_ -" He scolded, slowly rocking his hips against mine again and I mewled silently. "-slow _down_ , Stell, we're _nearly_ there..." He cooed into my ear.

"Joker," I breathed out naturally. " _Please_."

He smirked and giggled. "Y'know, you're pretty _driven_ for a virg-"

"I really want to this time." I whined, pulling at his hair.

I tipped my head to the side and looked at my digital alarm. It was gone 3am and I was about to get my freak on with a schizophrenic psychopath- _consensually_ \- and it barely fazed me. I was happy, I was eager. I wanted nothing more and for a second, that scared me. What if he didn't like me? What if I messed up somehow- we'd fuck now and after that he'd never touch me again. Never acknowledge me again. Neglect me. Forgetting that I was just a girl.

"Please..." I groaned tiredly, pecking and kissing his scars. I knew how much he loved it when I touched his scars, and I was hoping it contributed a little more to my hopeless begging.

Our noses brushed against one another's and we slowly kissed again, and I barely noticed his fingers slipping in the waistband of my underwear and tugging at it. I smiled against his mouth and draped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

I felt the thin lace fabric slide further down my thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and when there was no space left to move, I kicked my panties off and they fluttered silently to the floor, just at the end of the bed.

Joker's hand slipped further down where he wanted to go and I stopped the kisses to put my head back on the pillow and sigh shrilly in pleasure. His kisses still nipped at my neck and all he did was touch and stroke and kiss and I was beginning to get lightheaded from all this touching and feeling.

My mind drifted away until his fingers abruptly brushed my clit and brought me back to reality; exhaling a throaty moan from my mouth.

"Oh God- Joker!" I gasped aloud, shocked at the sudden touch and instantly Joker smirked.

" _There's_ my girl." He hummed alluringly beside my ear and kissed my cheek and jaw, varying between the two.

I'd played with myself before of course- no matter how many times I denied it, I fucked myself casually- but _nothing_ compared to this. His middle finger just gently and slowly massaged my most sensitive of spots and it actually hurt to hold in my moans, so I let out another mewl of delight, inadvertently showing him my vulnerability. Joker mumbled sweet nothings into my ear and kissed my face over and over, and continued rubbing between my legs over and over. My knees shook and I could barely keep still as I wriggled and writhed underneath him.

Desperate, I ground my hips against his hand that slickly fingered me and I chirped in pleasure that I never even knew existed until now.

I jerked my hips upwards and squeaked again. "Joker, _please_ , let me-"

"Shh... _atta_ girl, _good_ girl..." Jack cooed seductively in his low, gravelly voice and toyed with me faster to both his and my liking. With his hand still discovering all my sweet spots, he eventually sped up his pace and I found myself drifting away for a moment, panting and moaning and whining into the stuffy, hot air of my room.

The Joker's seductively dirty voice pulled me out of my daze once more.

" _Come_ for me."

And just like that, those three words triggered my release and I spasmed involuntarily; I shook against him and I shut my eyes, seeing stars; in a short second my moan could be heard, only to be blocked up by his kiss again. Muffled squeaks swam in my throat and against his mouth and my eyes rolled back as I began to see and taste and feel colours I never knew existed, feeling the very fireworks I'd seen earlier that night reenacted in its purest of forms.

After my sounds of delight subsided and Joker's kisses slowed down, my body fell limp against the bed and I heaved out a loose sigh of release. I was exhausted, but I still knew that we were _nowhere_ near finished.

What seemed like a smile danced on his lips as he looked down at me flirtatiously whilst licking his fingers- which I barely found repulsive or cringeworthy. Just really kinda sexual, and it made me think. Realisation didn't hit me so hard when I thought about what had just happened. I was surprised to realise that I felt much more casual about this than I thought I would, only it really hit me when I thought it out loud to myself. He gave me an orgasm he gave me an orgasm he gave me an orgasm _the Joker gave me an orgasm and I loved every second of it._

"You're so _loud_." He commented, sitting up and straddling my hips.

I panted, barely able to say a word. "Sorry..." I let my arms fall limp above my head and my chest heaved rapidly. "Oh my _God_..."

He scoffed teasingly and smirked. "If you think _that_ was good, we're not even _done_ yet," He leaned forward and kissed my lips between every word he said; "Little-Miss- _Virgin_."

I let out a soft, sarcastic chuckle. "Yay."

"Yay?" He grinned, nibbling my neck. "You _won't_ be saying 'yay' at _all_ when you're limping around at _three_ pm after only _just_ successfully getting out of _bed_ tomorrow."

I raised an eyebrow and smoothed my hands up his back and into his green tinged hair. "You're gonna break my legs?" I joked sarcastically, giggling.

Joker laughed to himself against my shuddering skin and sat back up, grinding against me again. "I hate to _flatter_ myself, but y'know... good luck _walking_ , is all I'm saying."

"You said you'd be gentle."

His hands held mine and lead them down to the belt of his trousers, which brought me _great_ joy. I fumbled to unbuckle his belt but eventually I managed, and Joker stroked my hips and tenderly kissed me again, after saying one last thing;

"Then you'd _hate_ to know what rough feels like."

I sighed in shocked laughter and kissed him hard and rough, slipping my tongue along his lips and letting myself in. One of his hands held my waist whilst the other fiddled with his trousers. Each movement and action pushed against the inside of my thighs and I groaned in my throat from pleasure.

Then I finally heard a dropping sound of clothes. Relief didn't even begin to describe what I felt.

Joker trailed open mouthed kisses along my jaw and further down as my legs tied around his waist, my toes curling anxiously. The tip of his rather large length barely touched me, yet I was grabbing onto his shoulders as if it were the only thing keeping me stable at the moment.

"You _okay_?" He asked.

"Yeah." I replied, my hand once again in his hair. Joker eventually pulled away and held my face.

"Stella, _look_ at me," He sternly demanded, and I did as I was told. My eyes watched his and I was so in the moment, so deep into reading his stare that I'd almost forgotten why he asked me in the first place. He licked his lips to himself. "I _want_ you to _see_ who's _doing_ this to you."

With literally no warning or idea, I felt the most strange sensation between my legs and both Joker and I let out incoherent noises but his was surprisingly the loudest this time. He let out an infinitely long moan of relief and he barely even moved as soon as he was inside me. It was bewildering. I'd never seen him so lost and vulnerable in all the time I'd known him. He collapsed on top of me and twitched inside me and his fingers clenched my waist, but he was still. I rolled my hips to try and get a reaction, but nothing.

He still didn't move. I got a little paranoid.

"Joker?" I gasped out, letting the grip I had in his hair release a little.

He still didn't move except for inside me but he moaned even louder again against my neck; louder than _I'd_ moaned, the hypocrite. It was a noise I loved to hear, to know that it was all because of me was intoxicating.

It sounded as if an actual _whimper_ left his mouth. It was a strangely delicate noise coming from him.

"You're so _tight_."

Joker managed to wince out that single sentence before slowly pulling back out, heaving out a long groan. "Oh my _God_. Fuck, Stella. _Stella_."

"Jack-"

"I love you. Holy _shit_ , I _love_ you," He desperately griped against my shoulder blade, sucking at the skin there. I was paralysed for a moment at his words. He didn't mean it, and in the kindest way, I _knew_ he didn't. It was the best feeling in the world to hear him say it, and for a short second, I pretended that he really did mean it, that he understood what it meant, just to satisfy my happiness. But he'd said it out of ecstasy, just filling the air with words to say. A spur of the moment. Like a child proclaiming 'I hate you I hate you I hate you'.

But again, he pushed back in, making me wince in slight soreness and he whined lowly. " _Christ_ , Stella... _God_ , you're so..." The rest of his sentence were inaudible groans and mumbled words, kisses against my neck.

I pulled at his hair harder and moaned, but I was sure it didn't hurt him anyways so no matter how hard I yanked his hair, he didn't complain. Him being a masochist, I was convinced it turned him on, if anything.

Another thrust and I released a shrill yelp. Joker tried to pull his moans down but he was too lost and he just ended up moaning louder. His hands held my hips tenderly and he guided himself along, out... moan, back in... yelp... and out... so slowly, and gentle, and tender, yet so full of lust and ignorant passion and selfish need... I _loved_ it.

He didn't once shut his eyes. They were either fixed on mine or on some aspect of my body. I found myself accidentally trying to pull myself closer to him, which only made him gently push me back down in protest, continuing his stretched out thrusts.

Joker tried to keep his hisses and whines and moans to a minimal but it was nearly impossible. He quickened his pace which shook the bed slightly, and I was thankful for a moment that I didn't own a creaky mattress.

Every thrust made me let out some noise, and it came to the point where Joker had managed to swallow down his sounds of pleasure and translated them in to mere laughs. It almost made me jealous, but I was sure by the smile on his face and the occasional giggle he let out, he was pleased by the moans and gasps I made and didn't mind that my nails were digging into his back with desperation to wish that this moment would never stop, that we could just stay like this and go at it like rabbits for the rest of my life.

I could feel my tits bouncing as Joker continued to pound me (even though he'd promised to be gentle) and I caught that he stared at them in mesmerisation. His hands then slid up to softly grasp them and I tilted my head back, a moan rolling off of my tongue. One of his hands then moved to fist my hair and he tipped my head back up; then opened my mouth with his forced tongue and kissed me, our lips colliding again between merciless... _fucking_.

His pace never stopped or slowed, only quickened. With his mouth muffled by my own I noticed he let out a lot more groans and moans now, his hand gripping closer near my scalp with a rough force that could only ever be brought on by need and desperation. I felt my muscles tighten and I realised I was nearing another orgasm, and I welcomed it willingly. I guessed Joker was too as he moaned louder against my lips and his thrusts sped up, causing me almost unbearable pain to both the hair on my head and the tightening space between my legs as we both neared the edge.

"M-muh..." I whimpered as his lips pulled back from mine, eager for his kisses again.

" _Fuck_..." Joker mumbled quite loudly as my legs tightened around his waist. "Stell... _look_ at me." He managed to grunt out and I obliged to his request, his hand wrapping around a bigger clump of my hair.

"Joker, I- I'm-"

"I'm gonna _c_ -" His unsuppressed words were cut off by the both of our moans mingling together.

I squealed and whimpered again as my muscles tightened around him, nearing closer and closer to the brink, my gaze never breaking his.

" _Fuck_ , I'm-" Joker got cut off as his hips bucked a final time and he moaned loudly, which I covered up with my own kisses. Joker pulled away as he shook, moaned my name and arched his back as he finished, which domino effected my intense orgasm and made me whine his name out in return.

After our lower stomachs untied themselves, Joker collapsed on top of me out of exhaustion with a long groan, and the weight of his body falling onto mine made me squeak.

Everything finally fell silent again. Heavy breathing and tired sighs occurred now and then, but everything was peaceful and we finally relaxed. We were done, we were finished, we were worn out. I was in light but hot, sore pain; it didn't hurt as much as everybody said it would- in fact, I assumed it barely hurt at all, but I just so happened to get relentlessly pounded and fucked repeatedly by Gotham's most feared criminal, so lucky, lucky me.

Joker cradled his head in the crook of my neck and he still shook and shivered gently from his release. I hugged him against me and stroked his hair, kissing his head every now and again.

"That was the best orgasm I've ever had in my entire _life_." Joker mumbled emotionlessly in monotone, barely moving or even tipping his head up to look at me. He sounded exhausted and it actually shocked me. Was it really _that_ good?

I snuggled my nose into his hair and inhaled his scent. He smelt like matchsticks and gasoline, but now we both just smelt of sticky sweat- and it wasn't even gross- it just smelt like sex. The aftermath of a fucking good fuck.

"You can stay the night if you want." I kindly offered, blinking tiredly up at the ceiling.

Joker slowly nodded and after a moment he sighed and finally spoke again. "I'm _exhausted_. I'm- _fucking_..." He trailed off as he was at a loss for coherent words.

I sighed, whispering under my breath to myself, but directing at him.

"Goodnight."

* * *

 _ **Okaaaaaaay it's finally finished. GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG TO EDIT YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Thanks so much for being patient, seriously.**_

 _ **Yeah, I know this smut scene took some time and it was really wordy, but I was mostly trying to focus on where their relationship stood and trying to define Stella's emotions more than the actual sex part, but whatever. I'm not ashamed to admit that this isn't exactly the best smut I've written in terms of it being sexy and whatnot.**_

 _ **If you're not exactly a fan of smut, I'd just like to warn you that yes, there will be more. There is one chapter (quite soon) that is just ENTIRELY smut, but it starts of with some conversation and fluff, I guess. From then on the smut is kind of optional, more of fillers, really, but still has elements of what defines their relationships and whatnot, so it's up to you on what you read.**_

 _ **Thanks so much for being so patient and I hoped this was worth the wait! Don't forget to comment/review and vote/favourite. It'd also help me out a loooot if you could share this story with anyone you'd think might enjoy it, but again, thank you sosososososososo much for all your support and for sticking with me throughout!**_


	20. Chapter 20: Heroin

**Chapter 20: Heroin**

Usually, I'd hate waking up. Grey ceiling, grey light, grey walls... grey day. But this morning was different, my room had a golden tint from the welcoming sunshine, I felt warm yet achey all over from memories of the night prior, and I woke up with a smile on my face. For once, I felt _happy_.

I found myself staring at the wall against my bed, which seemed unusually close. I felt cramped and slightly claustrophobic... until I realised why. I felt a slight weight pressed up against my back, and something rested fondly and loyally on my shoulder, as well as a hugging warmth around my middle, and light snoring from behind me explained why.

I slightly shifted my head to the side and found my nose touching somebody else's. I smiled and bit my lip. It was Jack. Or Joker? Who knew, he might've changed his mind. His chin was resting on my shoulder, his eyes still shut, and his chest was pressed up tightly against my back, allowing me to feel his every breath. His arms curled around my torso, hugging me closer like I was a comfort blankie, which was kinda strange to say about him. There was also a different weight pushed up against my nude backside, something that was now, to me, quite familiar... and I blushed.

Still, I was happy and ecstatic, although not to mention, sore. My wrists hurt from tight grabbing and my thighs ached from all the twisting and pulling, and also some different, more sensitive areas stung a bit.

I gently grasped Joker's hands and pulled them away from my stomach, letting me free and allowing me to turn onto my other side. I bit my tongue as even the slightest flip hurt; a promise that he had told me the night before. I laid on my side, looking at him. He looked so innocent. I would've said normal if he weren't wearing his paint and if his hair wasn't still green. I softly sighed, reaching over to brush some strands out of his closed eyes. It was a shame he had to be a horrible, vile person, he was just so gorgeous. Killing and destroying and being the psycho criminal that he was, it really made me sad. He was so handsome and strong and even _gentle_ when he wanted to be, but then he had to be... who he was. At the end of the day, he was a double package. You either had him _and_ the Joker, or none at all. And it upset me.

"How _long've_ you been _staring_ at me?" Joker suddenly mumbled, eyes still shut. My stomach dropped in shock, he'd near terrified me.

I let go of a heavy breath I didn't even realise I was holding. "Jesus Christ, Jack, you scared me." I said.

He opened his eyes tiredly and smiled a little. He groaned lethargically as he stretched out his limbs and then yawned before propping himself up by resting his cheek against his hand, his elbow on the pillow. I slowly smiled as I ducked further under the covers, hiding my bare shoulders and everything below that. "G'morning." He casually hummed.

"Morning." I timidly smiled and hugged the covers to my skin. I caught myself staring at his exposed chest, muscular and well toned and slightly tanned and I wanted to stop, dammit.

He smacked his lips and gazed at me through drooped, tired lids. "Stell, I don't, uh, _see_ _why_ you're trying to _hide_ under the _covers_. I, uh, _saw_ everything."

I bit my lip. "I'm... cold?" I attempted, but he only tutted and rolled his eyes with a smirk.

"Cold _hearted_. You're _already_ , uh, _hiding_ from me," He poked fun at me, faking a pout. "Let me _loook_." He grinned along in a sing-song voice, his hands finding my hips under the covers and sliding up.

I squealed in laughter and clawed at his hands. "Jack- _Joker_! Oh my God, stop!" I giggled as I thrashed about, his hands purposely tickling me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I continued laughing, my hands grabbing at his shoulders as he pulled me closer to him. "Stooop!" I mewled, hitting his shoulders playfully.

He began laughing mischievously as he flipped onto his back and I went with him, laying on top of him with our chests pressed together. I stopped laughing out of shock and he grinned suggestively at me. "Well _this_ is, uh, _nice_ , ain't it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "For you."

Jack scoffed. "Aw, _c'mon_ , have a little _fun_."

"I'm having plenty of fun, just in pain." I admitted, tilting my mouth.

His arms rested around my back and he furrowed his brows. "You all, uh, _achey_?"

I nodded and widened my eyes for emphasis. "Like you wouldn't _believe_."

"Where?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Everywhere." I whined.

"Everywhere?"

"Everywhere," I pouted childishly, propping my elbows on his chest and resting my chin in my hands. "My legs and my back and... other places." I coughed awkwardly.

Joker smirked and mimicked my pout teasingly. "Want _me_ to kiss it _all_ better?" He joked, to which I scowled.

"Shut up, this is your fault."

He crossed his brows sternly. " _Hey_. _Watch_ it. You _liked_ it and you _know_ it."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I liked it, but..." I pursed my lips, looking at him. "Are you gonna get bored of me now?" I worriedly asked, frowning.

" _Psht_ ," He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're too, uh, _interesting_. Too much _fun_. _Trust_ me, it's gonna be a _while_ 'till _I'm_ bored." He said, staring me straight in the eye, almost as if to make his reassurance intimidate me. Somehow he almost always intimidated me.

"Okay," I aimlessly accepted, looking away from him and out the window, admiring the early morning light. I flicked my eyes over to my digital clock. 9:48, school started already. I wasn't going, I suppose. "What're you doing today?" I asked the Joker.

"Well-"

"Not in detail. I just wanna know if you're busy or not." I suddenly grimaced, not wanting to remind myself what dreadful plans the Joker had.

" _Yes_ , I'm busy," He said, tucking some loose hairs behind my ear as he chewed the insides of his scars. "Probably _tomorrow_ , too."

I lowered my eyes. "Oh... okay. I just wanted to know." I said, already mentally preparing what the hell I was supposed to do with my life for the next two days.

" _Hey_ ," Joker hummed, cupping my chin. I avoided looking at him and suppressed a pitied sigh. " _Look_ at me," He said, but I ignored him. His eyes darkened slightly and his voice grew stern. "Stella, _look_. At. _Me_." I knew how much he hated it when the attention wasn't on him. I could get where he was coming from though, how impersonal it felt when I tried talking to someone who stared right through me. I understood his discomfort, in a way. He wanted me to look, I'd turn.

I stared at him. "Sorry."

His gaze turned neutral instantly. "When I'm, uh, _back_ , I'll _think_ of something."

"Think of what?" I asked.

" _Something_ ," He said, "You'll _know_ what I mean when I _think_ of it."

I curiously tilted my head. "Okaaay."

"Atta girl," Joker smacked his lips before pulling me in for an unexpected kiss. I responded almost immediately, but he forcefully pulled away from me. "Are _you_ on the _pill_?" He suddenly asked, his eyes hard in hidden panic. My stomach shifted uncomfortably and I swallowed dryly.

"No," I stuttered, biting my lip. "I'll have to get some today."

" _What_ if you're-"

"I'm _not_ , Jack. _Joker_. I am _not_ pregnant with _your_ child, _Joker_. Calm down." I strictly said, my harsh words making him glare at me.

"Watch your _tongue_ or I'll-ah, have to _cut_ _it_ _out_ ," He threatened, narrowing his eyes at me. "And you _know_ how _much_ I'd _hate_ to do that." He said, gently slapping my cheek with the palm of his hand before harshly pinching it, pulling the skin around.

I changed the subject quickly. "Why don't you use a condom next time?" I offered.

He grimaced. "I _hate_ latex, and it's, uh... _God_ , it's just so _uncomfortable_."

"Oh." I nodded.

I sighed moodily and sat up from him, forgetting that I was totally in the nude. I groaned in aching pain but not for long before Joker started pleasingly hooting in laughter as my breasts bounced out, making me squeal and cover them with my arms.

"Ooh, Stella, _babe_ , I _forgot_ how _perky_ they looked! C _'mere_ , doll!" He giggled, trying to pull my arms away from my chest, but I shook my head and laughed again.

"Joker, no!" I nearly began crying from laughter and began screaming when he tickled me, making me arch my back and shut my eyes, willing for it to stop. It was all too much and my tummy hurt from laughing. "Ow, stop, stop it!" I giggled, sitting back up straight, pulling one arm away to wipe a tear of laughter from my eye.

The Joker calmed his giggles down and rubbed my sides comfortingly, making me calm down along with him. I still giggled lightly in fear that he'd tickle me again, but he didn't. Instead, his hands trailed up and gently held my forearms, pulling them away from my chest slowly as if not to scare me. I let him, eventually blushing like crazy, but I let him.

My arms fell to my side and I watched his expression change to a playful grin to a look of awe as he stared at, well, my tits. I took a deep breath and sighed, as if I was forcing myself to stay still, just to build up confidence and step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to be confident for him.

The Joker held my waist and hummed to himself. "You're, uh, _gorgeous,_ " He said, less out of awe and more out of criticism. His gaze flicked up to mine and I continued to watch him as he slid his hands up my smooth skin; my breath hitched and I gasped as his hands touched my ribcage, which was still a little visible from the weight I'd previously lost from lack of eating. He'd heard my gasp and slowed down, hushing me. "Shh, it's _okay_ , atta girl..."

I shut my eyes and tipped my head back, eventually opening my mouth as I let out a moan when his hands met my breasts.

Then, he stopped, and so did I. The familiar click of a locked door turned, coming from downstairs. The front door. Panic pulsed through me.

My mom.

"Shit," I hissed, immediately climbing off of him to grab my pastel blue dressing gown, tying it around myself frantically. I looked out of the window, seeing mom's car parked in its space, and Joker's van on the other end of the street. "Dammit, it's my mom." I whispered to him.

" _Great_ ," The Joker rolled his eyes as I tossed him his clothes. " _She's_ just got the _best_ timing, _don't_ she?" He sarcastically retorted, hopping into his jeans whilst trying to button up his shirt at the same time.

I stopped biting my nails and picked up his tie and waistcoat, putting them on him as he looped and buckled his belt back through his trousers. I jumped as the front door opened and my hands began to shake. Joker grabbed them gently and pulled them away from him, tilting his head to motion me to go downstairs.

"She thinks I'm at school." I mouthed at him, and he shrugged.

"Say you're taking a sick day." He mouthed back, shrugging his jacket on.

I didn't answer, just uneasily chewed my lip and stared at my bedroom door, listening out for my mom. I heard her yawn tiredly and mumble to herself about a 'fuckin' hangover'. _She's turned into an alcoholic_...

The Joker leaned forward and pecked my jaw before whispering in my ear. "I _suggest_ you wear a, um, _turtleneck_ sweater, sweet cheeks." He chuckled darkly to himself and I looked at him with angry eyes, self consciously covering the no doubtedly bruised hickeys on my neck. He winked at me playfully and quickly kissed me painfully on the lips before turning to climb out of the window, which he hated doing. I cautiously pulled the dressing gown up to cover my neck and took a deep breath before leaving my room to go downstairs and face my mom.

It felt like I hadn't seen her in ages. On my way to the kitchen I passed the window in the living room and saw the Joker outside, mockingly waving at me. I pressed my middle finger against my lips and kissed it before holding it up to him, smirking spitefully and playfully before turning away to go into the kitchen.

My mom sat groggily, hunched over the kitchen table with a glass of water in her hands. As soon as I walked in, carefully covering my neck, she looked up and her red, bloodshot eyes met mine, accompanied with dragged bags under her eyes which nearly looked blue. Her thin lips weakly smiled at me. "Why aren't you at school, sweetheart?" She croaked, her voice barely a mumble.

I pulled out a seat opposite her and sat down, frowning sorrowfully. "Mom, we've gotta talk." I said, to which she forced a laugh.

"About what?" She sipped her water, her hands shaking with lethargy.

"You need help."

It fell silent for a while and I was convinced that she would never reply. She did respond though, quite uncomfortably; picking her red nails, swallowing hard, avoiding my gaze. She cleared her throat and shuffled in her seat, and it was up to me to continue.

"Mom, I don't know what you do or where you are nearly every night, but you always come home looking like a wreck," I say, extending my hands out to cup hers. She was reluctant but she didn't move, almost as if she were frozen. "Talk to me, mom."

"There's nothing to say." She whispered, staring straight past me. Her lips quivered slightly and her eyes glassed over as she swallowed her brittle tears down.

"Tell me where you _are_ , mom. Where you go every night," I encourage her, squeezing her hands. "I know it's not just 'friends from work'. God's sakes, please tell me."

"But it _is_ 'friends from work'." She lied, sadly smiling at me, begging for me to find her convincing. But I didn't.

"Mom," I say sternly, staring her down. "Who're you sleeping with?"

She stiffened at my words. I knew she knew. She knew there was no denying anything now. Her eyes widened in what nearly looked like fear before she looked down in defeat, her voice a whine of pain. "Dean... Tucker. He's..."

When she didn't continue and began crying, I ducked my head to try and find her eyes, but she seemed dead. "He's what, mom?"

She looked up at me with red, tear filled eyes and she began sobbing hard, her body shaking.

"A drug dealer. H-he's giving me heroin."

And just like that, she exploded in a fit of tears and her head fell against the table, spasming and shaking in pain and sadness. She wept and her hands nearly crushed mine as she held them like it were the only thing keeping her alive. She blubbered like a baby under her breath, weeping apologies and sobbing out how much she hated neglecting me.

She cried and looked up, leaning over the table to cup my face. "Oh God, I'm so sorry..."

I didn't react. I was blank. She was taking drugs. She _was_ screwing somebody, but for _drugs_. For heroin. I thought nothing was worse than having a new father being forced upon me, but this was it. This was the worst case scenario. My mom became a heroin addict within a couple of short weeks, and damn, did she keep her secret well. Along with the Joker distracting me, I never expected it. I would've never guessed.

"You've gotta go into rehab." I told her, holding her hands and pulling them from me.

Her face dropped. "N-no. No, I can't. I can't go, I'm not-"

"It's rehab or I'm telling the police, mom."

She cried. "You'd do that... to your own mother?" She asked in disbelief.

"If it meant keeping her safe, then yeah. I'll make you go cold turkey if that's what it takes," I strictly said, arching a brow at her. "Rehab, mom."

Her eyes widened at me.

"Mom."

She shuddered shakily and bowed her head, crying, but she nodded.

"Rehab." She agreed.

I stood from my chair, approached her slowly and she stood, holding me immediately as she cried and sobbed into my dressing gown.

I hugged her back, holding her tightly, but at the same time covering the secrets _I_ held that laid out bare on my neck. I might not've been a drug addict, but I was addicted to something far more dangerous and sweeter than heroin, and it came under the name of the Joker.

* * *

 _ **Gasp wow omg never saw that sob story plot twist coming did you wooow**_

 _ **Cliché, I know. But you'll see...**_

 _ **Yeah, so sorry I've been dead for weeks! I've just started school again and it's already stressful as hell. My sleep pattern's out of whack, I'm stressing over friends... sometimes it's hard to get back in the fictional world when reality's everywhere you go. XD also, I've been working on more chapters for this, so that's taken up a lot of time. Sorry this is short and it isn't much, but bear with me.**_

 _ **Love you all.**_


	21. Chapter 21: Cassidy and Doctor Crane

_**This chapter's kinda shit. Not rly important to plot. No Joker. Read if you wanna. Meh. Includes Cassidy and our good ol' pal Scarecrow (bagface) so y'know. Just a sorta side plot story arc- I know this doesn't really make up for the lack of updates but I've been feeling kinda stressed and down in the dumps and annoyed mainly because of school and just people in general. Please forgive me, I'll treat y'all to some smut soon. Later. Like a couple of chapters. Ok chapter 23. I've said too much. I spoil you all so much.**_

 _ **Bye.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Cassidy & Doctor Crane**

Cassidy stood outside the pharmacy I'd arranged to meet her at, in a floral print dress and nude coloured heeled pumps. I scuttled on over in my checked shirt, torn jeans and scuffed sneakers and as soon as she'd found me, she smiled. I approached her and without warning, she hugged me.

"Stella! Gosh, I thought you were late then realised I was actually early, good lord, I'm so stupid," She laughed goofily, tossing her dark hair over her shoulders. "So, where are we going?" She asked, smiling perkily.

I pursed my lips and casually pointed to the pharmacy behind her. "There."

She turned around to stare at the pharmacy that loomed above her and then she looked at me, blinking in confusion. "In there?"

"Yup." I confirmed, blinking the rare sun out of my eye.

She squinted her eyes at me, still confused. "What for, painkillers?" She sarcastically asked and followed as I simply walked in, looking around. "For period pains? 'Cause I have some in my purse if you-"

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. "A morning after pill."

I heard the clack of Cassie's shoes stop as she grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face her. I stared her straight in the eye, not intending to break it. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're being _serious_?"

I nodded.

She raised her brows and widened her eyes. "You're _actually_ being-"

" _Yes_ , Cass, I had sex. About time I stopped being a damn virgin, so stop acting like a ten year old about it." I rolled my eyes and playfully shoved her arm as I continued searching for the pills as I strolled past the shelves.

"Who?" She excitedly cooed over my shoulder as she closely followed me around the store.

I swallowed. _Y'know, just the Joker_. "Um, dunno."

Cassidy tutted loudly and groaned in boredom. "Shut _up_ , you do know who it is."

"I was _drunk_ ," I said, shrugging and tilting my mouth. "I couldn't see over my left shoulder let alone see whose dick was in my-"

"C'mon, Stell, I told you when me and Jonny first had sex!" She whinged.

" _Jonny_?" I raised a brow, never hearing her mention a 'Jonny' before.

She stared at me blindly before clearing her throat. "Uh, A-Alex. I meant Alex."

I stopped and folded my arms, glaring at her. "Are you cheating?"

"What? No! Are you kidding me? Alex is my _life_ , you know how much I love him." Cassidy truthfully argued, holding both my hands.

"Is he even _real_? I've never seen the guy in my life, not even a picture." I said, growing suspicious.

She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. "It's a... private relationship. He doesn't want anyone to know..." She bit her lip. "You're the only one I've told."

I raised my brows. "What about your parents?"

She scoffed. "My dad would kill me if he knew I was dating anyone, never mind a... Alex." Cassidy changed the end of her sentence, only feeding my curiosity. Forget about the pills, I wanted to know who Alex actually was. If he even... _was_.

Still, I walked and searched, the topic still on my mind. "I barely know anything about him, Cass, only that he's 'wonderful and perfect and clever and smart and nerdy and mature and that I love him very, very much'," I mimicked her voice, smirking at her. "Oh, and that 'we fucked in the psych classroom this one time and it was the hardest I've ever come in my life'." I laughed, making her shush me loudly and hit my arm.

"Stella!"

"Couldn't help myself."

We carried on looking for the pills in silence, Cassidy occasionally getting side tracked by some interesting looking shampoos and conditioners. Eventually, I found a box of pills and called her over.

"These are the right ones, right?" I asked her and she took the box, scanning over the front and back. She nodded.

"Yeah, I had these. Works like a charm. Get the other pill and a couple'a condoms too, for next time."

"He doesn't like latex." I said, picking up one or two boxes of pills just to be safe.

She shrugged. "Neither does Alex but ribbed condoms make things really interesting." Cass casually commented as I walked up to the checkout to pay.

"Gross, Cass." I said.

The old woman at the desk eyed me and Cassidy suspiciously and we grinned merrily before she scanned the items and I payed. I grabbed the boxes and put them all in my bag, before we walked out of the pharmacy.

"What was her problem?" Cassidy jeered, linking her arm in mine as we walked out. I didn't answer her, only walked around the corner to a set of public bathrooms that nobody ever used, and Jesus, did it smell of piss. Cassidy grimaced and held her nose. "Ugh, gross."

I laughed ironically and took out a box of pills, cracking one out. "Hah! How'd you think _I_ feel, I gotta swallow _this_ crap down while at the same time, smelling actual crap." I complained, to which she flipped the bird at me. I sighed heavily as Cassidy handed me her bottled water and I popped a pill in my mouth, quickly downing it with the water. I swallowed it as fast as I could and I groaned, shaking my head in disgust.

"Well done, Stell." Cassidy said as she put her water back in her handbag, still holding her nose. I put the box I'd used back in my bag and we walked out of the bathrooms, breathing in much fresher, cleaner air once we were out.

Cassidy and I ended up sat on a bench by the town's water fountain, a large statue of some historical guy with a moustache stood in a pool of murky water filled with coins and pennies from wishes that'd never come true. Cassidy sat leant back against the bench, legs crossed, whilst I was hunched over with my arms resting on my knees, watching the water fountain. I sighed softly under my breath and rubbed my forehead tiredly. Where the hell was I these days? What happened to my life? I purposely skipped school to have sex with a goddamn psychopath whilst my mom abandoned me to fuck a heroin dealer. I starved myself for a brief period. I drank more. I devoted my whole attention to one man that I was positive could never make me happy in the long run. My priorities were entirely backwards. Jesus, I was losing my mind...

"Stell?" Cassidy leant forward with me and turned her head to face me. "You do know who you had sex with. I know you wouldn't throw away your first time like that." She kindly pointed out, looking across to the fountain.

I pursed my lips and exhaled heavily. "I know."

"Stella, I don't care who it was. I just care if he treats you well or not." She fiddled with her nails anxiously.

I shrugged, scoffing. "For a guy like him, I suppose he does."

"Do you like him? Really like him?"

I nodded.

Her brows furrowed. "Do you... love him?"

I bit my lip and aimlessly stared at the floor, almost as if I were gazing through it. The four letter word made me cringe. "I think I might."

"Do you want to?"

I shook my head, looking down. "No."

Cassidy said nothing, only shuffled closer to me and wrapped an arm around me, huddling us closer together. I sighed and cuddled back before pulling away to give her a proper hug, squeezing tightly, as if trying to squash all the emotions out of my head, to feel nothing.

I wish I were numb.

* * *

A few days later and things nearly seemed to go back to normal. Nearly. I was attending classes again and I managed to get my mom to go to a support group and got her talking to a doctor, too. She still went to work, but came back at the correct time and she came back looking like a decent human being. I supposed I was confident knowing she was okay.

I was on my break and on my way to psychology to collect some notes from past lessons I'd missed and I checked my phone. I followed back a few people on Instagram and then checked my messages, only to see I hadn't got any new texts. I tried not to, but I tapped on the last conversation me and the Joker had. I knew that I was supposed to delete the messages but I hadn't heard from him in nearly a week and it started eating at me a little. I tried to delete them but for some reason I felt like it'd erase something out of my mind, something a lot bigger than just a simple text message.

 _From: J_

 _Received at: 6 days ago, 2:38 am_

 _Dont forget to eat something. You aint skin & bones, remember._

I sighed, stuffing my phone back in my pocket and heading down the psychology corridor. I opened the door to my classroom and expected to see my usual, skinny female psych teacher, only to see a tall male with dark hair. My entrance had startled us both and he turned from organising the desk to look at me. He was tall and slim with dark hair and wore glasses that complimented his light blue eyes. He pulled his tie and cleared his throat.

I stuttered awkwardly. "Sorry, am I in the right class...?" I asked mainly myself, looking around the room only to see that it was indeed my psychology class, but since it was break, nobody was here yet.

The man leant against the desk. "Ah, yes. I'm afraid that Miss... uh... _Miss_ , has left for some family situation and I was hired to occupy the class," He said, studying his glasses. "In other words, I'm your new teacher. Uh, for now."

I nodded in understanding. "Oh. Well, that's news, I guess," I said before holding out my hand politely. "I'm Stella. I, uh, I study this subject. Obviously."

He took my hand and shook it. "Jonathan Crane. Well, that's Doctor Crane for you, if you will." He introduced himself, stifling a small smile. I smiled back.

"Uh, Doctor Crane, I just came here to check up on any work I missed. And also to collect my folder." I said, beginning to walk over to the cabinets.

He just nodded. "Well, being new, I'm afraid I don't exactly know about, uh, other work. I'm just given a schedule and a subject and that's it." He told me, shrugging.

"Alright. I guess, welcome to the laziest psych class you'll ever teach." I said, standing on my tip toes to reach my file in the cabinet.

He arched a brow. "You're not seemingly lazy at first sight."

"I'm not," I said, finally grabbing my file and closing the cabinet. "I've just got a lot going on in my life."

"Like what, may I ask?"

I set my file down on the table and flicked through it. "You're a teacher. You shouldn't be asking about my personal life."

He half smirked. "I'm also a therapist. That's where the 'Doctor' part comes in. I work at Arkham." Doctor Crane bragged and I raised my brows.

"Huh. So a psych teacher that actually knows everything there is to know about the human mind, then?" I asked, stuffing some papers in my file.

He shrugged, smiling. " _Almost_ everything there is to know about it, anyway."

I nodded in interest, unzipping my bag to put the folder inside. I slung it back on my back and turned to continue talking to Doctor Crane. "So what's it like, working in Arkham?"

He sucked his bottom lip and adjusted his glasses. "Well, there's certainly a... variety of patients. Between you and me, half of them are only there because of their... uh... abilities," He coughed. "Like, um, Poison Ivy and Mister Freeze and whatnot. Most of them are nutcases though," He said, before smirking and chuckling. "The Joker being one of the nutcases."

I swallowed as my mouth turned dry. "Oh really?" I rhetorically asked, my voice cracking nervously at the mention of his name, so I cleared my throat.

"Such a fascinating specimen. He's an absolute loon, mind you, but he has a very... interesting perspective on things," He told me. "He's one of my favourite patients, if not the most difficult."

"Really?" I awkwardly hummed, raising my brows. My palms grew clammy and I hid them behind my back to stop myself from twiddling my thumbs.

"Oh, yes. It also seems to him that-"

Suddenly he stopped talking as the door swung open and a shrill feminine voice began laughing. "Oh, honest to _God_ , Jonny, you wouldn't _believe_ what Mister Daniels just told me-" Both Doctor Crane and I turned our heads and I was the most shocked to see who the girl that skipped in was. Tall and slender, with dark hair and flawlessly gorgeous curves... it was Cassidy.

As soon as she saw me she stopped walking and shifted her gaze between me and... 'Jonny'. "Oh," She forced a chuckle. "Hey, Stell. D-Doctor Crane."

"Hello, Cassidy." Me and Doctor Crane both said at the same time, making the situation far more awkward than it currently was. Cass' face grew red in awkward embarrassment and she cleared her throat.

"I-I thought this room was empty. I'll go and, uh..." Cassidy pointed to the door and instantly turned on her heel, only looking back once, to look at Doctor Crane with an unfamiliar look in her eye. I played with my hair uncomfortably and stepped away too.

"I should leave as well," I told Doctor Crane and he nodded, walking back to his desk. "Um, it was nice meeting you, Doctor Crane."

"You too, Stella. I look forward to seeing you in class." He forced an uneasy smile and I said nothing, just turned around and walked out of the room.

Cassidy was stood right outside the door, biting her nails nervously. Her cheeks were still flushed and she played with her hair, her eyes glossing over in embarrassment. I shut the door behind me and looked at her directly in the eye.

"Cassidy, you don't study psychology."

She swallowed hard. "I know."

"What was that all about?" I asked, pointing at the shut door. "'Jonny'? What the hell?"

Cassidy shrugged, avoided my stare and started to blab. "I dunno Stell, I just... I mean, my dad knows him so I know him and he's just close with my family and I thought I'd drop by and-"

I tucked my light hair behind my ear. "Cass, what's going on?" I asked and she just shook her head, looking down.

"A lot of things. Too many things. I just... I can't talk about it right now," She mumbled before lightly rubbing my shoulder. "Sorry." Cassidy's whisper turned into a whimper as she turned and walked down the corridor, running her fingers through her hair stressfully. I just stared, fiddling with the strap of my bag and chewing on my lip.

It seemed like I wasn't the only one with secrets.

* * *

 _(2 days later)_

"Mrs Addams, I was ill that day and-"

"Stella, ill or not, that presentation should've been in ages ago," My English teacher scolded me, her sharp features turning razor-like. "Listen, I won't give you any punishments but if I miss that homework once more, I'm going to have to talk to Doctor Crane about cancelling your lessons to work with me."

My eyes widened, "But-!"

"'Buts' are for ashtrays," She cut me off, shaking her head. "And speaking of Doctor Crane, I would like you to give this to him," She handed me a white envelope. "It's a schedule. A... teacher thing, so don't be nosy."

"Right." I sighed, taking the envelope from her.

"Alright, thank you, Stella. Off you go. Have a good lunch period." She dismissed me.

I slumped my way out of class grumpily. "You too, Mrs Addams." I sarcastically replied and left, walking towards the psych room.

Inching towards the door, I glanced down at the envelope and quirked my lip curiously. Peering around cautiously beforehand, I decided to open it.

 _This is so wrong_.

I couldn't help myself. Joker rubbed off on me. I opened the paper inside. It wasn't a schedule, it was a letter.

 _Dear Dr. J. Crane,_

 _It should be no surprise to you that I am writing to inform you that you are no longer my wife's therapist. You are hereby never allowed to come into my home or near my family, and I will arrange with the school to have you restricted to ever be in the presence of my daughter or I WILL have you fired/resign. As you were once a close friend of the family, I am disappointed to have to go to these extents but this is for my own daughter's safety and wellbeing or I will have you reported. I would apologise but this is entirely your doing. You should be ashamed- preying on a young girl like my daughter. She is none of your business, she never was, and she never will be so long as you listen to my request._

 _I'm giving you this one chance._

 _Mr. F. Quentin_

My jaw dropped open. _Cassidy's father_.

I pushed open the door to the psychology classroom and I nearly choked at what I witnessed. Doctor Jonathan Crane and Cassidy, answering whatever suspicions I'd had from reading the letter.

My teacher and my best friend. They were _kissing_.

Noticing my presence, Cassidy gasped and pulled away from Doctor Crane as he cleared his throat and straightened his tie.

I stuttered and stepped away slowly as Cassidy's eyes widened and her lips twitched. "Jesus- u-um, Stella, this isn't-"

"Oh my God." I stammered, shakily folding the letter and sliding it back in the envelope.

Doctor Crane cut in, "U-uh, Stella, if you'd be so kind as not to-"

"N-no, it's fine, I-" I paused mid sentence as I shamefully walked forward and shoved the letter in his hands, looking down the entire way, not being able to look him in the eye. "Um. Bye." I rushed for the door, but Cassidy ran after me.

"Stella, wait!" She called as I paced down the hallway, nearly running. She caught up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Stell-"

I turned around and faced her. "What the _hell_ is going on?!"

She turned a shade of guilt-ridden red, "Listen, it's not what you think it is."

"Then what _was_ that back there, Cass?" I demanded, motioning towards the direction of the classroom. "Please, I just- I'm so confused!"

"It's just, he's my mom's therapist and I see him frequently and I've known him for a while and-"

"What about Alex?" I asked. She bowed her head shamefully and didn't answer me. "Are you cheating?"

Cassidy awkwardly glanced back up. "Um... _he's_ Alex..."

"What?"

"Doctor Crane... Jonathan... he's Alex."

Realisation washed over me and I felt stupid. I felt lied to. "So it was a code name?"

"Yeah..."

"A code name? What are you, ten?" I huffed, narrowing my eyes.

"I promised him I wouldn't tell anybody! He works three different jobs and if word gets out that he's having sex with a 'defenceless teenage girl'," She used finger quotes, "He'll lose everything."

"That letter I just gave, I-"

"I know," Cassidy cut across. "I know, my dad told me. He... I mean, it was embarrassing, but he walked in on us..." She forced an awkward laugh and widened her eyes at me, mumbling, ' _y'know_ '.

I sighed, looking down. I had no right to call her out on a lie. I had no right to tell her that she was doing wrong. I didn't have the goddamn right to think of her as a liar, or a slut, or a hopeless romantic. I didn't have the right... not when my legs were constantly wide open for a fucking clown.

I bit my lip. "Hey, Cass, there's something... there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Cassidy nodded but as soon as I opened my mouth, the bell for next period rang. I sighed somewhat in irritation, but mostly in relief.

"What?" Cass asked, "What is it?"

I was about to tell her, but then backed out last minute. I could see Joker's winning smirk in the back of my mind. "Nah, never mind," I smiled, shrugging. "I'll have to tell you, uh, later." I said and without giving her the option of answering, I turned and walked away.

And little did I know that I possibly could've been walking away for good.

* * *

 _ **Ugggh I know it's a bit short and there's no Joker, but heeeey Stella finally interacts with other people. who'd have thought she has friends, right? Comment/review and tell me what you think! :) So sorry this wasn't as good, but writing block's a bitch. Forgive me /3**_


	22. Chapter 22: Possessive

**Chapter 22: Possessive**

Waking up in the middle of an uncomfortable dream wasn't necessarily a great feeling, but it was a relief. It wasn't a nightmare as I wasn't scared, yet it was filled with thoughts I wasn't happy about dreaming.

Everything was a blur. I was staring in a mirror, my body a mesh of tiny bleeding holes growing redder only to look up and see that it wasn't me I was looking at, it was my mom. The holes looked like tiny, tiny poke marks... injection marks... track marks. The holes started growing black veins around them and grew larger and larger until blackness devoured her skin- no wait, my skin, wait, then Cassidy's- but the blackness wasn't her skin, it was her hair, her dark hair; and then she was bent over a desk, a man's hands feeling her waist and she was smiling but the man's face was a blur, hold on- it was Doctor Crane- before I looked back down at Cassidy to see it was me instead and I wasn't smiling, I was crying, and then I looked back up at the man to see the Joker, laughing harshly, menacingly, gripping my hips with sharp fingers that dug into my skin, roughly fucking me. I heard more giggles and I looked back down to see myself in hysterics, crying with laughter, then both Joker and I stopped laughing when a door opened and in the doorway stood a man that was familiar to me, with greying brown hair and ocean blue water for skin, bleeding down his face until he melted into a puddle of red, like candle wax, and everything went black...

And then I woke up, only to see black again. I was breathing heavily, my blankets pushed off of me and I was freezing, absolutely ice cold. I rubbed my eyes tiredly and looked out of the window to see it still pitch black, and then at my digital clock to be told that it was gone 1am. I didn't long ago just fall asleep.

 _Weird dream._

"You-ah, talk like _that_ in your _sleep_ again and you'll, uh, wake _mommy_ up." A dark, gravelly yet comical voice said in a hushed tone from my desk chair and I jumped, gasping heavily. Familiar giggling came from the person's mouth and the moonlight lit up half of his face, to see the Joker all decked out in his attire.

I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart hammering heavily. "Jesus Christ, J, you scared the living hell outta me."

The Joker shrugged casually and grinned. "I _hear_ that a _lot_ these days," He said, leaning forward on the chair. I ran my hands through my hair and sat up in my bed, trying to catch my breath. "You, uh, not _sleeping_ well?" He asked me, pursing his lips in unfamiliar concern.

"Where the hell were you?" I change the subject immediately, staring at him, filled with what could've potentially been betrayal and hurt. Was I just his fuck n' chuck? "I haven't seen you for a week and you don't even try to bother to contact me."

Joker smacked his lips."I'm a _busy_ _man_ , sweet pea. Got-ah, _places_ to go, people to, uh, _see_. Ooh, that _rhymed,_ " He giggled to himself in amusement before turning serious. "You _can't_ get all _attached_ if you, uh, _know_ what you're _committing_ to, Stell."

"Trust me, I wish I wasn't." I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Now, _now_ , uh, _toots_. That is _not_ the _hello_ I'm _looking_ for," He childishly scolded me, tapping the bridge of my nose and I blinked furiously. " _C'mon_. You, _uh_ , wanna play _nice_?" Joker stood from the desk chair and climbed on the bed, making me shake my head shyly.

"Joker, don't. N-not right now. I don't want to-" I fretted, putting my hands on his shoulders as he got on top of me, gently straddling me.

He shushed me and pressed a finger to my lips. " _Shh_ , I'm not _gonna_."

"Then what're you-"

"I said _shush_ , Stella. I _suggest_ you _do_ as you're, uh, _told,_ " He whispered, placing a kiss delicately on my lips. I did as I was told, stayed quiet, and kissed him back like I was supposed to. Like I wanted to. God, I couldn't ignore him. I was mad at him but I wanted him far too much. He paused and reached up to caress my cheeks curiously, prodding and poking, almost as if he were a child just fiddling about. "I _wanted_ to, uh, _see_ how my _girl's_ holding up."

I raised my brows and blushed. " _Your_ girl?"

He nodded and chuckled, gently slapping my cheek. "Yeah, _my_ , uh, _girl_. I do _own_ you, after all."

I accepted what he said, as blunt as it was, but still I smiled. I liked belonging to him, in a strange, twisted way. I felt wanted, like I had a purpose. Somebody to look good for, feel good for. Somebody to mean something to. "Right." I mumbled, bringing one of my hands up to fondly play with his hair.

He watched me through hooded eyes and leaned forward to kiss me, softly yet needfully, totally full of want. I moaned ever so quietly, trying to keep my voice down incase mom could hear. I gripped his hair and eventually I moved my hands down to cup his cheeks and I ran my thumbs across his scars, making him jolt his head forward and groan deeply, nuzzling into my hands. His eyes fell shut and he lost himself, holding my wrists firmly as I touched his scars, and with every stroke he found himself nestling deeper against my touch, turning his head to every angle to help me along. A small smile formed on my lips as I watched him nuzzle my hands and felt his grip tighten on my wrists out of pleasure. He let out a throaty moan and he leant forward to kiss me again, still holding my wrists.

Eventually, he had to pull away, and he made it seem more like he was forcing himself to do it as he shook his head and mumbled 'no' under his breath a few times. He let go of my wrists and my arms fell limply above my head and he stared down at me, as if admiring me. Pondering. " _Mmm..._ you're just _too_ damn _irresistible_." He hummed under his breath, his thumb tracing my bottom lip softly.

I smiled. "I've never been told that before."

"Well, _I'm_ telling you," Joker grinned, cupping my chin playfully. "You're a little _minx_ ," He teased me, eventually letting go and getting up from me. He stretched and quietly yawned before turning to me. "Get some _proper_ clothes on. We're, uh, going for a _drive_."

I sat upright. "But my mom's in bed."

He shrugged, already going to my wardrobe to pick out a sweater for me. " _All_ the more _reason_ to, uh, leave _now_."

I got out of bed and impishly tugged on his jacket sleeve. "I can't leave while she's here. What if she wakes up?"

Joker sighed and held the hem of my shirt, intending to pull it off of me but I stopped him. He shot me a glare and arched his brows, ultimately making me give in as I lifted my arms and he pulled my shirt over my head. "You're, uh, _coming_ , Stella. Whether you _like_ it or _not_."

I shivered, the cold air hitting my naked skin before he handed me a shirt and a sweater and I put them on quickly, also a pair of skinny jeans once he'd handed them to me. "I mean, I _do_ want to. Just... not right this minute." I hesitantly argued, worrying if he'd get mad with me.

Joker just groaned impatiently. "Stella, I _don't_ , uh, _care_. I'm _introducing_ a little, uh, _fun_ in your life. So _live_ it." He bluntly said, tossing me my sneakers.

I sat on the edge of my bed and began lacing them up. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"Nowhere in _particular_ ," Joker said. "Just for a _drive_. I've got _drinks_ , too."

"I don't wanna get drunk." I complained, standing up once I'd laced my shoes.

"Then, ah, _don't_. All the _more_ for _me_." He smacked his lips and mussed up my hair before tossing me my coat and slowly opening my bedroom door, letting me out first- like a gentleman, only without the sanity.

We snuck downstairs and I grabbed my keys from the hook by the front door and as quietly as I could, unlocked the front door and slipped out. I gently clicked it back shut and we jogged over to the black van as quickly as possible, mainly because it was freezing, but also just incase we got caught. We got into the van and I threw my coat in the back and we stayed there for a minute to warm up.

Joker cleared his throat and turned to me. I looked at him, his eyes fixated on mine. " _You_ , uh, did you _get_ the _pills_ afterwards?" He hesitantly asked, chewing the insides of his scars.

I snuggled up sideways on the seat and rested my head against it. "Yeah, I did. One hundred percent not pregnant, don't worry." I slightly smiled, gazing at him tiredly.

"Good," Joker said nonchalantly, almost relieved. "Don't _want_ any, uh, little _clown_ _babies_ running around, now _do_ we? _Hm_?"

"No we don't..." I half yawned, barely being able to keep my eyes open. I shut them for a second, just quickly, if it meant I could squeeze in some extra sleep...

" _Hey_ ," Joker barked, nudging my leg harshly. I twitched upright and scowled at him, huffing as I sat properly on the seat, buckling my seat belt. Joker chuckled and shook his head, turning to the wheel and started driving out of the street as I crossed my arms reluctantly, like a child. " _Don't_ be-ah, _stroppy_ with _me_ , sweet cheeks."

"Your fault for waking me up in the middle of the night."

"Stell, you were _mumbling_. _Shaking_ ," He flicked on the indicator as we drove around a curved turning. "Honest to _God_ , I thought you were gonna start _having_ , uh, _convulsions_ or something _,_ " I raised my brows and turned to him. His eyes were stern as he looked out at the road and his brows were crossed in concentration. His grip on the wheel tensed when I looked at him and his scars twitched, his eyes flickering over to look at me. "What _you_ lookin' at?" Joker grimaced, his voice thick, as though he were defending himself. As though he thought I was mocking him. I had a feeling that this wasn't the first time he'd felt like that and as much as I wanted to, I didn't pry.

"Nothing," I said, my voice nearly a whisper. "I just like looking at you."

Joker huffed. "Well, _don't_."

I frowned to myself, taken aback by his harshness. I shrunk back down in my seat and stared out of the window, watching the city lights in mesmerisation. Gotham was so alive at night. Violent, but alive. It was rare times like these that made me appreciate living here. I chewed softly on the crook of my finger, my eyes stinging heavily in lethargy.

Then, I had to. I piped up. "What drinks've you got?" I asked Joker, who didn't really look at me.

He shrugged nonchalantly, nearly careless. " _Dunno_. Ah, check in the _back_. Pretty _sure_ I got, uh, _Vodka_. Know how _much_ you _love_ that." He half smiled, but still he focused on the road.

"Thanks," I said as I unbuckled myself and attempted to climb over to the back seat, the Joker slowing the van down to make sure I didn't fall and hurt myself or something, which was surprisingly and unlikely kind of him. I got to the back seat and indeed, there were a few bottles of Vodka, rum, and one or two bottles of whiskey. I took a small bottle of Vodka for myself and stuck my head out beside the driver's seat. "Want anything?" I asked him, and he shook his head.

"I'm _a'right_ , doll. Just, uh, drink _up_. _Wake_ yourself _up_ a little." He said, rubbing his forehead, cursing under his breath as white paint was left on his hands.

I climbed back to the front seat and sat down, taking good mouthfuls of my drink, shaking my head afterwards from the shock of the aftertaste. "Much better." I mumbled to myself, rubbing my eyes and drinking more.

Joker chuckled lightly, happily placing his leg on my thigh and squeezing. "Atta girl."

I grinned and sat on my knees, leaning closer to him. "Can we pull up somewhere? I wanna tell you something." I resisted a giggle and I drank more, making him raise a brow at me.

"Can't you tell me now?"

I shook my head, smiling. "Nope."

Joker groaned under his breath and watched out for signs or a secluded place to park the van. I drank more, becoming slightly more intoxicated with every drop I drank. _And there was me saying that I didn't want to get drunk..._

Joker drove down an alley next to a shut down strip club and pulled the breaks, but leaving the ignition on in order to keep the van warm. He leant back against the seat and looked at me, licking his lips. "So, uh, _what_ is it you wanted to _tell_ me?"

I giggled and climbed over the seat, sitting on his lap. I drank the rest of my Vodka and threw it in the back, not caring if it smashed. I allowed myself a second to take it in and I looked at the Joker curiously, reaching my hands up to touch his lips. He didn't move, only kept still as I lightly brushed his lips, and eventually cupped his cheeks, tracing his scars.

"Joker?"

"Hm?"

"Can I call you Jack?"

"No."

"Joker, then," I sighed, letting the name linger on my tongue for a second. I still lightly touched his scars as he held me, one hand on my thigh and the other behind my waist. "Who did this to you?" I asked, referring to his scars.

He looked away from me and I felt him tense. It was obviously a touchy subject, but I felt hurt. I felt offended that someone had the mind to cut him up. Yes, his scars stood out, yes, I liked them, and yes, it made kissing and touching far more interesting, but it was inhumane.

"Joker?" I asked again, and he just glared at me. I frowned, and stopped asking. I just brought my hands back down and curled up on his lap, tucking my arms and legs in, resting my head against his neck. I'd never cuddled him like this before. His chest heaved in a sigh and he held his arms around me, more possessively than comfortingly. But it was okay. If him being possessive meant he could hold me like this, I was all for it.

Slightly drunk and tired, not the best combination, I drawled out in monotone;

"I love you."

" _No_ , you don't." He dismissed me.

"No, I do." I insisted, peering up at him.

He stared at me. "It don't _exist_ , Stell. Stop _convincing_ yourself it does."

"Listen to me." I softly demanded.

"You're _crazy_."

"Sometimes," I sighed, "When I see you, my mind is just... it's all over the place. My whole body becomes white noise. When I see you wring your hands or see your tongue poking in your cheek I just think- wow. You're... _real_."

" _No_ way." He sarcastically groaned.

"No, you don't _understand_. When you first kissed me on my living room couch... God, it was like dreaming for the first time. It was like seeing colours after an eternity of blindness. Joker, I could _never_ explain with words how much relief I felt. I let down my walls for you," I drawled, the taste of alcohol still sweet on my tongue. "I never thought I'd even like you but now I'm head over heels, proclaiming my drunken love to you." I laughed, and all he did was chuckle back.

" _Exactly_ , Stell, you're _drunk_. Just stop _talking_ , uh... go to _sleep_ , doll."

I shook my head slowly and stared at him, as if I'd had an epiphany. "Oh my God..." I said, realisation looming over my face.

"What?" He barked, watching me attentively.

"Shit, I... I think I'm _in_ _love_ with you."

Silence. I sat there with my mouth open, full of shock and astonishment. I was drunk, I had no idea what I was even trying to explain, but I knew I was speaking the truth. I was so profoundly in love with this dreadful wreck of a man, that I'd seen him in a completely different light all this time. I was wearing rose coloured glasses and all the red warning lights looked like stars to me. I was in so deep that my heartbeat constantly felt like it was playing sad songs in my chest. I was so fucking backwards I'd gone crazy. I'd never planned this. This wasn't meant to happen. I was in love with him. Oh, I was madly, dreadfully, insanely _in love_ with him.

Joker sighed heavily, almost pitifully. He played with the ends of my hair as I planted gentle, loving kisses along his jaw, not quite being able to reach his lips, but it was the most I could do at that moment. Every inch of his skin... I loved it all.

"I feel so _sorry_ for you." He muttered.

"No you don't," I said, my finger playing with the collar of his shirt. "You don't feel anything," I whispered out, both of us knowing that my words were truth. "I love you. And I can't help that. I'm stuck with it. So whatever." I sadly sighed, resting my head against his chest again.

Joker just murmured in my hair, "Well, I like _kissing_ you and _touching_ you and, uh, sometimes your _laugh_ is, um... _nice_. If that means _anything_ to you."

I was happy, but I didn't smile.

"It means the world to me."

* * *

 _ **Ehh idk I know that this is more of a filler chapter but hey, it's something, right? I promise that next chapter will be juicier... if ya know what I mean ;)**_

 _ **Also early(ish) chapter! I feel guilty for leaving you all for ages before the last ones... so just treat yourself to some out of character fluff. Couldn't hurt, right?**_


	23. Chapter 23: My Favourite Colour

_**Hey, this chapter's gonna be written in 3rd person just for fun, just for this chapter, and lemme tell you, it's just total SMUT with maybe a pinch of fluff. You've been warned ;)**_

* * *

 **Chapter 23: My Favourite Colour**

Joker was feeling very optimistic. Despite not particularly liking people, he was with his favourite person in the whole world besides Batman, his favourite girl- _his_ girl- and today, he had her _all_ to himself. The Joker and Stella were in her room, her mother away at support group. Joker didn't understand what was so addictive about Stella, so alluring. This girl was a bitch. She was stubborn, she was nosy, and she was reluctant. Defiant. Annoying at times. Yet she was sexy, and beautiful and sometimes he wanted nothing more than to just grab her neck and eat her all up.

And she was willing to let him do just that. Maybe that was the best part.

The Joker grinned confidently as he sat against the headboard of Stella's cramped, single bed, hands behind his head casually. She sat on her desk chair and swivelled around childishly, pushing her desk for support with each turn. He smirked to himself and chuckled at the times she'd nearly toppled over. She was just something _else_. No, nothing like any other girl he'd met before. She was sane in the most insane way possible. Logical when it came to illogical topics.

He found the half empty lemonade bottle sat on the bedside table and took a quick gulp out of it.

"Any, uh, _plans_ for Easter _break_?" He asked, rolling up his sleeves. Stella loved his arms. They looked so strong and muscular. And his skin tone was so nice. His arms were the type she wouldn't mind have squeeze the life out of her, as long as they were his arms. His arms were just so... tender looking. They looked like... like home.

 _They could also break your neck within a second if you screw up_ , she thought.

Impressed and pleased by how handsome he looked in his waistcoat at that very moment, she shook her head at his question.

He just nodded and silence fell yet again- except for the squeaking of the spinning swivel chair.

The Joker cleared his throat to catch her attention. With every turn she made she tried to look at him, but still she listened. Despite feeling annoyed at the lack of her attention, he couldn't help but watch her. Just _stare_. She looked half dressed, but she was at home, she didn't quite bother with proper clothes. She wore these black knee socks that clung to her thighs, and under her slightly oversized shirt he caught himself staring at her black lace panties. The want to whip them off and just stick his face between her legs was absolutely insane and he even thought of drooling when the thought came to mind. A feeling came over him and he crossed one leg over the other, shoving his hands discreetly over his crotch, trying to hide the excitement of his... _package_?

He smiled to distract himself. " _Do_ you, uh, _wanna_ come over _my_ place? My, uh, _home_?"

Stella's swivel chair slowed down and eventually stopped. She looked at him with an unamused face. "I can't." She easily reasoned, her grey eyes awkwardly clicking with his.

Joker wouldn't take no for an answer. It wasn't fair. He wanted her for himself, he was sick of climbing through a fucking window and having to keep his mouth shut because her mommy had control issues. He wanted her where he could just have her, whenever he wanted, with only the flick of his wrist.

Besides, he had a bigger bed at home.

"Why _not_?" He whinged.

"Because it's a ridiculous idea."

"No it's _not_ ," He scoffed. "It'd be _great_. You'd be _all mine_ for two _whole_ weeks. And you, uh, _know_ how much I _hate_ sharing my _toys_." He ended with a playful smile and Stella could only sigh. She knew he was being honest.

"I can't just pick up and leave. In case you haven't realised, my mom still has no idea you're here and I'm sure she'd notice if I just took off and left," She objected to his suggestion, resting her chin on her knees she held to her chest. "I know it's Easter break but... it's impractical. And really, really bad timing..." She said, her mom's drug abuse drifting past her mind.

"Say you're visiting _gramma_." Joker shrugged.

"Ain't got one."

"Friend?"

"The only one I have's going to Spain with her family over break. Sad, right?" Stella sarcastically asked, referring to Cassidy.

The Joker hummed in acceptance of her point and then he bared a thoughtful purse of his lips. He still wasn't having a no. " _Say_ you signed _up_ for a, uh, _camp_ or something. _Pack_ your stuff and leave with _me_ instead." He grinned as though it were that simple, although she couldn't deny it was a pretty good idea. He thought it was okay, but not so exciting. At the moment, excitement meant nothing to him. He just really really wanted Stella put in one place where he could look at her all day and touch her all day and they'd do whatever they wanted to _all day_. How many times in twenty four hours could he have sex repetitively?

He shook the thought from his head.

She tipped her head to the side and stared at his purple jacket which hung on the post of her bed. She was unsure of his proposition. "I dunno..."

Joker sighed and placed the lemonade bottle back on the bedside table and chuckled to himself. "You're _such_ a goodie _two_ shoes." He teased, a toothy grin bearing his mouth.

Stella snorted in fake laughter. "Because fucking Gotham's most wanted criminal behind my mom's back is as 'goodie-goodie' as it gets. Right." She raised her eyebrows in sarcasm.

The Joker cleared his throat in fake awkwardness. " _Technically_ we only did it _once_..." He said. _And that once was fantastic._

"That's not my point and you know it." She raised an eyebrow challengingly and pulled her chair back towards the desk.

" _Don't_ do that."

"What?" Stella asked.

"Uh, _raise_ your _eyebrow_ at _me_ like _that_." The Joker said as though it were obvious.

She kept her brow arched smugly and smirked. "Why not?"

"You're _teasing_ me." He said, not being able to help but bite his lip.

"You tease me too, y'know."

"I don't _like_ to be _teased_."

"Neither do I."

"Nice to _know_ we've got _that_ in _common_."

Stella smiled. "Told you we were compatible."

The Joker smiled to himself although he tried to hide it by drooping his head down. He was only hiding it because for once, it wasn't a smirk or a chuckle. It was an actual, genuine smile and he could only imagine- were they actually that compatible? _No_ , he thought. _She's just saying that to cheer herself up._

The two were both quiet for a moment and Stella couldn't help but stare at him. What a flawed person. So wrong... and yet he was all hers. Or she was all his. She didn't really know what was going on there, whether they were dating or just fucking, but either way she was sure that she was his 'property' of some sorts, and even though being owned by a man felt degrading, he made it feel wonderful. He was very possessive (without being controlling) and for some scary reason she liked that. It made her feel like she had a place, a reason. She felt protected.

Stella got up off the chair and crawled on the bed, closer to Joker until she sat on his lap, straddling him. He wordlessly shifted his eyes to look at her and leant back against the headboard, heaving out a sigh of content. His face was neutral, yet on the inside he bared the biggest grin he'd ever felt. She was just so... normally attractive it was almost funny. If she walked down the street, nobody'd bat an eye, but up close, her smiles and her conflicting personality made it seem like a crime to miss this walking piece of work of art.

Stella was smiling happily, her hands resting against his chest, fingers clenching around the soft material of his waistcoat.

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "You've- _ah,_ got my _attention_ , kitten." And she really did- he enjoyed her weight and warmth on him and he enjoyed watching her smile. It was a strange, distant feeling for the clown, but he liked her smile. Her eyes lit up and she always seemed excited, and then _he_ felt excited. He didn't know why but he constantly wanted a smile to be slapped on her face. The Joker wasn't sure how to give one to her, but he knew how to give her what she wanted, and he supposed that was enough.

Stella relaxed around his lap a little, and the closeness brought butterflies to her tummy. She loved the intimacy, as did he. "What's your favourite colour?" She asked out of random curiosity.

Joker giggled to himself and scoffed. " _Pink_. Ain't it _obvious_?" He said with a roll of his eyes.

"Shut up," She playfully smiled as Joker smirked back in satisfaction. "I meant apart from purple and green, stupid." She bit her bottom lip in attempt to keep a straight face, but it was a futile attempt.

He sighed and hummed to himself in thought. He brought one hand to comb through her light hair and he played with the ends. It was so soft, like velvet. "I _like_ the _blue_ in your _hair_."

"It's turquoise."

" _That's_ a shade of _blue_."

"No it's not," Stella calmly stated. "It's a shade of _teal_."

His hands slid down to hold her waist. Joker had to suppress a groan of satisfaction- _God_ , he loved how her waist curved into her hips. Her skin was like silk, and for some reason he felt the destructive need to want to grab and squeeze it until she turned blue, but he could never bring himself to destroy something so perfectly made. She was like fresh snow he didn't want to step on, or a canvas he was too hesitant to paint on.

"What's _that_ a _shade_ of?" He challenged playfully.

"Green." She said.

" _And_ what's _that_ a shade of?" He asked. " _Green's_ not a, um, _primary_ _colour_ , remember."

She sighed in defeat and realised the childish ways of his game. "Yellow..."

"And...?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "Blue."

"Atta _girl_." He smiled widely and full of pride, one hand sliding back up to play with her hair. She watched his dark eyes as they watched how he teased her locks. His fingers twirled her hair around and around in mesmerisation, only to pull them away and comb through again. "You're _not_ a, uh, natural _blonde_ , are you?" He questioned knowingly, tilting his head. He let out a little giggle of craziness, which was almost cute to Stella if she didn't seem as fucked up as he was.

"It's platinum, actually." She retorted.

"Answer the _question_ , sweetheart." The pet name teased its way off his tongue and he smiled playfully as his fingers went down and yet again grazed back and forth across the skin of her waist.

"No," She replied to his earlier question. "I'm not a natural blonde." Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh.

He smirked. "You're a _brunette_ , _aren't_ you?"

"How'd you know?" She squinted her eyes.

He finally stopped playing with her hair and held her waist with both hands again. He shrugged. "I _don't_ -ah, _know_. You just _seem_ like one. You got that _brunette_ type _attitude_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, looking outside the open curtains and the windows to see the evening settling down into the early night. She turned her gaze back to the Joker.

"Not _sure_."

"Okay." She accepted.

Minutes passed with the two sat like that in quiet. Stella stared out the window to see that if she'd stare for long enough, whether she'd notice the sky getting darker or not, or the moon changing its position. It was still light, the evening baring a golden lilac hue. Her eye then caught two birds perched on a wobbling branch, pecking at each others' faces and feathers. Like the two doves outside her English class.

A little clipping feeling just above her knees caught her to look away. The Joker ran his finger and snapped the top of her black knee sock against her left leg, watching in interest and blank curiosity. _So peculiar_ , she thought.

He lifted his chin slightly but his eyes locked with the knee sock he was playing with. Stella looked absolutely irresistible to him. "Have _I_ ever _mentioned_ how _sexy_ these look on you?"

Stella bit back a smile. "Not particularly, no," She said. "Why sexy? Can't I be cute?"

She was, to him, extremely attractive, he supposed, but she had this air of innocence to her he knew wasn't real. Oh, she was _far_ from innocent. "You already _are_ cute. _Some_ stuff makes you look _cute_ in a _sexy_ way." He explained to her, not quite knowing what his point was.

"Like schoolgirl sexy?" Stella offered.

" _Precisely_ ," He agreed, looking at her. "But I'm _not_ a, uh, _pedo_. Then _again_ , you're not _exactly_ underaged so I _think_ I'm in the clear." He chuckled mischievously, his fingers running under the hem of her knee sock. If they were honest, neither of them cared about the age. It wasn't that much of a gap and besides- everything was consensual, wasn't it?

Stella stifled a giggle and fiddled with the buttons of his waistcoat, but never unbuttoned it. "Ties and waistcoats make you look sophisticated." She complimented with an innocent grin.

The Joker smirked, feeling flattered. He was glad she thought he looked okay to her, still being in denial with his scars and everything, which was a first. He'd never really questioned his confidence before. " _Sexy_ sophisticated?"

"Sexy 'I want you to bend me over an office desk and fuck me' sophisticated."

There was a pause. The Joker smirked wider and he could just imagine it. _Far_ from innocent.

"You _dirty_ girl."

Stella brushed his comment off with a laugh. "Hey, you're thinking about it too." She argued.

"I _am_ ," He shamelessly admitted, "And I've got this, uh, _wonderful_ study at home with a _boring_ , messy _desk_ that needs to be _spiced up_ by some sweet, hot, _steamy_ love making," He hinted, giving her a sly smile before sadly sighing in sarcasm. "I _mean_ , 'too _bad_ you can't come _back_ home with me though... _damn'_." He faked a pout and began slowly stroking her waist up to her ribs under her shirt and back down again. She shuddered at the feeling despite enjoying it, but she refused his comment.

"Shut up. It's not all that easy."

"It, _uh_ , really _is_ , sweets."

"It's not."

" _Oh_... but we'd have _so_ much _fun_." His eyes lit up playfully and his strokes became softer and much more ticklish, but in a pleasurable way to her. He stared at her rosy lips, how they quirked in uncertainty. How he wanted to just take them and kiss and bite at them until they turned purple and swollen.

"Enlighten me." She told him, sliding her hands up to his shoulders and back down his chest lazily. She really was curious, and he was more than willing to show her, but he wasn't letting her off that easily.

" _Nope_ ," Joker smirked. " _You_ gotta find out for _yourself_ , toots."

Stella rolled her eyes but smiled, and suddenly things slowed down and quieted again. Not knowing what else to do, in an attempt to climb off of him, the Joker seemed reluctant to let her go and he pulled her back onto him with tight hands, chuckling to himself. He didn't want her to leave him. Not like that, so bluntly, so carelessly. He wanted her, and he wanted her _now_.

" _No_ you _don't_ ," Joker huffed in laughter, holding her waist again with one hand and on the back of her neck with the other. " _You're_ staying _right here_." He pulled Stella forward and caught her lips with his, kissing her roughly and intimately. At first Stella laughed from the sudden surprise of contact, but then she linked her arms around the back of his neck and leant into him, kissing him back. _This is nice_ , she thought. His arms snaked down her waist and around her back, and he did something during the kiss that made Stella squeak.

He gave her ass a tight playful squeeze, pulling her closer to his crotch.

Stella broke the kiss for breath when she gasped and he raised a brow. "You _okay_?" He asked, not even thinking of letting go of her behind. It just- _God_ , it felt so _good_! It was fairly small, but it sure as hell wasn't flat.

She bit her lip in anticipation before nodding and kissing him again, continuing what his actions had abruptly paused.

The Joker let out a soft, throaty growl when he positioned her on his crotch to some angle he really enjoyed. He dug his fingertips into her ass and didn't stop squeezing and kneading as he bucked his hips to grind right against her panties, relishing in the pleasure he was having. She responded and ground back, feeling exactly the same way. Warm flesh, with only a thin layer of clothing separating the two. And she felt every twitch, every pulse.

He released his mouth from hers as he trailed kisses down her jaw and neck. "Your _mom_ ain't home any _sooner_ , is she?" He breathed out heavily, biting at her skin. This was why he wanted her home with him. So there were no questions, no waiting, no hesitation.

Stella shook her head and hummed in between a gasp, "No." She tangled her fingers in his hair as she felt herself getting wetter as well as feeling him getting harder. It really brought her great satisfaction, the things she could do to him. But God- the warmth, the heat, the rush- it really got her blood pumping.

" _C'mere_ ," The Joker groaned out in between a half moan and he sat Stella upright again. Without ceasing to rock her against him, his hands slid up her Oasis t-shirt and she raised her arms for him to pull it off, which he did with ease. He tossed it aside to the floor and ran his hands back up her sides with admiration, eventually cupping her breasts and chuckling to himself. " _God_ , I've _missed_ these."

The Joker had seen a _lot_ of tits in his lifetime. Big tits, small tits, heck, even saggy tits. But hers... hers were _just right._ They made a good handful and they were perky. Maybe it was because she was young or just because she was blessed with great tits, but either way he loved them. It wasn't just playing with them or slapping them around that he enjoyed, either, Joker enjoyed to just... _look_ at them, which was a first. Admiring things for simply, what they were.

Stella laughed happily but it was laced with nervousness. Why was she so anxious? She'd done this before. She wanted it again. Now she was getting it, she wanted nothing more than to curl up on the floor in fear and worry she'd mess up somehow; but everything felt so good and she couldn't bring herself to stop. She decided that this was just too right; she couldn't stop now. She wanted him. She wanted him right now.

Joker tenderly groped and massaged her breasts and Stella bent her head back and let out a loud moan filled with laughter. She didn't know what was so funny, but she was so happy and she was having so much fun. There was nothing in that moment she wanted more than this, so she basked in it. Hearing her moan brought a grin to the Joker's face- he liked it. He loved it. It was a sound, he'd before, never imagined her to make, her sweet lips parted in an o-shape and her eyes drooped shut heavily. Sometimes her head'd tip back and he could practically see the moans crawl up her throat. It was the one noise that drove him absolutely crazy. Not a lot of things made him weak, but this girl, this one flailing, laughing, moaning, gorgeous sack of a human being made him want to take her for himself. He was never one for sharing, but this was different. He wanted to lock her away where only he'd be able to find her, and admire her, and just have his goddamn ways with her.

The Joker moaned aloud as she hit some sweet nerve in him through grinds, and the sound of him making sounds freely without the worry to stay quiet _did_ _things_ to her. His voice brought a funny warmth in the pit of her stomach, and it was a nice feeling. With his hands still taking attentive care of her chest, Stella leant forward and placed a few kisses on his lips again, moving southwards as she left love bites on his neck.

" _Stell_..." He groaned, but as a start of a sentence, not a call of ecstasy (although it sort of was). It was the first time he'd said her name that day and it left her wanting him to say it again. He gasped in desperation, clutching tightly at her skin. " _Please_... can we...?"

Without giving him a clear answer, Stella continued kissing his neck and jaw and her hands travelled downwards to the waistband of his pants and unbuckled his belt, and she unzipped the zipper. She didn't even need to look to know whether he was hard or not; he was already out and she could feel his length hard and pressed up against the front of her panties. He was overcome with excitement and pleasure just waiting in anticipation for what was going to happen next.

In a short rushed moment of awkwardness, Stella slid off her black lace underwear and discarded them to the floor, before turning back to the criminal she was straddling.

His infernally dark eyes were hooded with lust and they gleamed with excitement. His hands slid down to her waist and held her for a moment, he searched for words to say. Eventually his eyes landed on her black knee socks and he chuckled, sliding his finger along the top of them. "Can _these_ stay _on_? I'm-ah, _really_ feeling these right _now_."

Stella nodded with a tilt of her head and put on a small but sincere smile. "Whatever you want."

After that, she propped her hands on the Joker's shoulders as he positioned her, trying to keep the petite girl upright and balanced. For some reason, Stella didn't want to look down, so she kept her gaze locked on his face. He was wearing his makeup. _Dammit_. Stella really wanted to reach up and touch her face; she was bound to have streaks of red and white on her lips and neck. She'd have to remember to wash it off before mom came home.

Joker paused for a moment and looked at her in concentration and thought. He wanted to see her face, he wanted to see her eyes shut and her lips part and the moan escape her mouth. He wanted to see her fall apart and melt right through his fingers, he wanted to watch as she turned to sand and slipped slowly away from the here and now- all because of him. It satisfied him, in a way, to see her give in so easily. To see her physically break because everything that was so wrong felt so _right_.

Wordlessly, he continued to position her and he looked up at her again, more specifically her eyes. She knew what was coming then just _because_ he looked at her, and the way he did said it all. Oh, he couldn't wait. She kept her eyes locked with his and he helped her down, his length causing her a little agony again, but nowhere near as much as her first time did.

Stella threw her head back and yelped out in slight sore pain and also pleasure, and the Joker let out a velvety moan which made her recognise the joys of vocal chords and why she loved his voice so much. His fingers dug into her waist as he groaned. " _Christ_ , Stell, you've got _no_ idea just _how_ fuckin'... _oh_..." He let out a throaty laugh and guided her hips back up with a thrust, only to have her slowly slide back down. He gasped. " _Fuck_ , I love you." He wasn't sure what he meant when he said that, and he wasn't sure if he _should've_ said it, but it just came out. The way she made him feel at that second felt good and he didn't know what else to say. He could've just moaned, but he liked to talk to her. Communication was good, even if he had no idea what he was saying.

Stella winced in pain from his length and they both experimented until they found a steady pace, their loud moans and groans finding their way out with no urge of silence or hesitation. This was another reason why Joker liked having her alone. Loud and proud.

Joker thrusted upwards whilst she slammed downwards, causing her both immense pain and pleasure she refused to stop for. With every thrust Stella found herself yelping or moaning louder and louder, and Joker either laughed or hissed in pleasure. Of course, Stella hadn't done this with anybody else before, but she knew his body and his skill worked absolute blissful miracles to her. She was confident with him knowing what he was doing. She knew he wasn't joking when he said he was good at sex. 'Good' was a huge understatement. This man knew what she liked and he was fantastic at giving it to her, she thought.

Despite her not being experienced, Joker liked having sex with Stella. She was a little bit of a natural, at least he thought from what he'd had with her so far. She managed to work her body- and intentionally or not, he didn't know- to some way that brought him straight out, raw pleasure. Honestly, fucking somebody was easy enough. He knew that, he'd had plenty of experience with all kinds of women, and that type of sex deemed it impossible to tell if they were any good or not. But _to be_ fucked _by_ somebody... now that was an entirely different experience. That showed their worth, and if he was honest- she was _good_ , perhaps not perfect, but what made it so fantastic was the fact that it was _her_ who was doing the fucking and not anybody else. The Joker didn't know how that made a difference, but that was just his gut telling him what was what, he couldn't help it.

He wasn't fucking her. They were having sex.

As this carried on, Stella's tits started bouncing to the rhythm of their thrusts and bucks. The Joker gazed at them and his smile grew into a smirk as he continued to watch, and whether he found them funny or not didn't worry her too much; she knew he liked them anyway.

A certain roll of Stella's hips as she went down caused Joker to nearly arch his back and he let out a stuttered moan, his eyes shut blissfully. His hands gripped her ass tightly again and now Stella was more confident with what she was doing.

The Joker groaned loudly, biting his lip tightly. " _Don't_ \- stop..." He gasped through panted breaths, his gaze locking with hers. Stella couldn't believe it. _I've got him begging me!_

After a few moans Stella leant forward to kiss him roughly, never breaking their perfect rhythm as he helped push and pull her wherever they both felt was right. Stella felt her insides tighten and she stopped kissing him, sitting back upright. Joker's hands let go of her behind and he got ahold of her own hands, linking their fingers tightly together for support for her to lean on. He had a death grip on her hands, the pleasure too much to bear with moans alone.

Stella let out small moans before they escalated when she got close to her orgasm. With each thrust her clit throbbed and he hit all of her sweet spots; it was all just too much. Stella bit her lip and groaned in her throat as the Joker made noises of pleasure to go along with hers, his thrusts quickening as she rocked back and forth and up and down.

The Joker was just as close, but he wasn't going to be the first one. No-he vowed to _never ever_ be the first to come. That was just plain _rude_. "Atta _girl_ , _good_ girl..." He mumbled innocently to encourage her to let go, but it had some incredulously dirty tone behind it and it really turned her on somehow. " _Come on_ , baby, _come_ for me."

Before she knew it, Stella tipped her head back and let out another long and loud, broken moan, digging her nails into his hands as she came hard and her orgasm washed over her. Just as her wriggles of pleasure were about to come to an end, Joker quickened and roughened his pace to the point where he began whining and moaning louder than she had. He was always louder towards the end when it came to sex, she'd noticed. There was something cutely hypocritical about it that she seemed to like.

The Joker was near done, basically cracking and breaking underneath her desperately. "Stell..." He sighed heavily, encouraging her to lean forward and they kissed passionately and sloppily, forgetting that they even cared about subtlety anymore. Their moans began to muffle in sync as his sounds eventually won over hers, and he pulled away, letting out a moan so loud his voice broke during the middle of it. Stella was surprised to see him like that- he was actually vulnerable. He swore heavily under his breath as he finally came, writhing and spasming gently underneath her.

After their highs, out of exhaustion Joker pulled out and Stella collapsed on top of him, her arms and legs spread out over him, star shaped. The Joker was still fully clothed, whilst the girl laid there in just her knee socks and the bracelet around her wrist. The entire house was quiet. If anybody walked past the front door, they'd never imagine that a girl like her was just fucking her criminal boyfriend.

 _That was amazing_.

Heavy breaths exited their bodies and the Joker gently traced circles on Stella's lower back, stroking her hair with his other hand. She reached up to caress one side of his scars, using what energy she had left to show him her tender affection for his imperfections.

"I've _got_ it." The Joker finally whispered after minutes of silence.

"Got what?" Stella asked innocently, her doe eyes peering up at him.

He smiled and chuckled into her hair, and traced lines up her spine and kissed her forehead with a smirk. "We can _stage_ a _kidnapping_."

* * *

 _ **Okay, so I know I described way too many irrelevant feelings and I kinda lost track of where this was going... but damn, I love talking about their feelings :') feel free to comment, I'd love to discuss the characters!**_


	24. Chapter 24: Adventures

**Chapter 24: Adventures**

Flicking through the shirt rack, I went down a few until I found my size. I glanced around the large clothes store, seeing if there was a clerk around to tell me which colour I should get- black or white. The shirt was a simple tank top, but with the flat stomach I've always wanted since I was fourteen, it was about time I tried showing my tummy.

"Thirty dollars..." I mumbled under my breath to myself, picking out both black and white shirts and comparing them. I couldn't chose. White was innocent and made me look pretty yet black was sophisticated and made me look desirable- and I couldn't choose which one I wanted to be.

A store clerk apologised as she brushed against my back, trying to walk past me. My chest heaved and I spun around, softly clearing my throat to get her attention.

"Excuse me?" I asked her, holding up the shirts. "Sorry to bother you, but which one would you recommend? The black or the white?"

Her lips quirked in thought and she hummed, leaving me stood there for a while. Her eyes flickered from one to the other, then she smiled. "I suggest you get navy. It'd bring out the blue in your eyes." She said, and hurried off to where she was going.

I turned back around and looked at the shirts. "My eyes are grey..." I said to myself, sighing. "And I don't even want navy."

Suddenly, a pair of familiar feeling hands cupped my waist and a mouth approached my ear. "Hey there, _stranger_." He whispered.

I jumped and yelped in shock before covering my mouth to muffle the noise. I turned around and facing me was the Joker in a black hoodie, even with his makeup. He smirked at me and raised his brows, and I gave him a shocked look. "What're you doing here?" I looked around to ensure that nobody took notice of the freaking Joker stood right behind me.

Joker smacked his lips and eventually shrugged. "I got some, uh, _time_ on my hands. Decided to _check_ on my _things_. My... sugar plum _pancake_ -ah. _Haha_."

I sighed and raised a brow, avoiding his gaze. "So I'm a thing, am I?" I teasingly asked, turning back around to admire the shirts. Joker tutted under his breath and held my waist, leaning in against my cheek again.

"Shut _up_ , stop feeling so... _moody_." He giggled slightly, baring his gritted teeth against my skin.

I shuddered and bit the insides of my cheek to try not to smile. "I'm not moody," I said, and he only laughed deeply into my hair, his soft scars brushing against my cheek and the hood of his hoodie ruffling my hair. "Hey, which shirt should I get? Black or white?" I asked, holding the shirts up.

Joker scoffed. " _Don't_ care, let's, uh, _go_."

"No, c'mon. Help me out here." I said, stepping away from him. He groaned and sighed and reluctantly slouched, showing me every bit of evidence that he didn't care. I ignored him and held up both shirts and he stared at them.

He licked the insides of his scars and clicked his tongue. "Mmm... the _black_ one. Uh, brings out your _eyes_."

"What colour would you say my eyes are?"

He squinted his eyes as though it were obvious. "Um, _duh_. Grey," I smiled at his comment, surprised that he even bothered to notice. I liked my eyes a little more now, knowing that he just... knew. "Now _c'mon_ , get the damn shirt and let's _leave_. Got places to _go_ , Stell, people to-"

"Yeah, yeah, people to see. As in, me." I joked, placing the white shirt back and bringing the black one to the checkout. Joker had his head down the entire time as he followed me, hiding his makeup. Why he wore it outside of 'work' was beyond me. I took the shopping bag with the shirt from the checkout lady and quickly thanked her before Joker had a death grip on my wrist and pulled me close to him as he hurried us out. The grip wasn't threatening, but I wouldn't dare step an inch away from him.

Joker had parked his black van around the back of an old, shut down post office, and made no hesitation to rush me into my seat as he jumped in and shut the car doors.

As he revved up the engine he mumbled incoherently to himself under his breath and bounced his legs up and down, waiting for me to stow my bag away. I sent him a look. "Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm _fine_ , uh... _sunflower_." The pet name wasn't to be taken seriously and it slipped off his tongue with a comical giggle, but he didn't smile. He still sat there as the van warmed up.

I sat back in my seat and observed the van. He'd hung an air freshener from the rear-view mirror and the seats weren't as dusty anymore. The back seats were empty, any trace of evidence of alcohol gone. "You cleaned out the van." I said, reaching over to pull down his hood.

Joker swatted my hands away and did it himself instead. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I _wanted_ the _van_ to be _clean_. Why _else_ would I clean it out?"

I shrunk back in my seat. "I dunno. I mean, whatever, I just think... um, well done."

Joker scoffed. "How's the last _week_ of, uh, _school_ been?"

I raised my brows at him. "That's a very mundane question of you to ask."

He shrugged and turned to face me, smirking slightly. "What? Got a _problem_ with me, ah, _caring_? Looking out for what's _mine_?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "School's been fine. Forgot to tell you a while back, actually, but my best friend's fucking my Psych teacher."

Joker cocked his eyebrows. " _Really_? Did you tell her you're fucking _me_? Cos you would'a won _that_ competition _easily_. Can't get any better than _me_ , doll." He grinned vainly, patting my thigh suggestively.

"It's a secret I'd rather keep to myself, actually." I admitted, lowering my voice as I realised the gap between us lessened.

" _Yeah_?" He asked. "How _come_?"

I licked my bottom lip and stared at his, red red red. Then I looked back in his eyes and smirked. "I don't like sharing my toys."

He understood that I was referring to himself and he seemed stunned. He snarled in laughter and gripped the back of my neck, pressing my lips as deep into his as physically possible. Of course it hurt, anything involving him did, but somehow I found myself liking it. I felt it- I felt emotion. I felt like the only girl in the world to him; I'd tamed him time and time again and I wondered if I was the first one to ever do so. I couldn't have been his first woman but I wanted to be _the_ first woman.

I pulled back from him. "Mom's not home." I smiled, and his eyes lit up like little lights of excitement, the bulbs about to burst.

He chuckled and started up the van, eventually pulling out of the alley and into the main road. " _Well_ , why didn't you say so _before_?" He rhetorically asked and sped throughout all the roads, trying to get the quickest shortcut to my house. The windows were rolled down without a care and the radio was turned to some station that just seemed perfect, and the wind flew through my hair, making the rare boiling weather seem irrelevant. I looked over to Joker and I found myself smiling at him, actually really smiling at him. Thankful for this moment and not regretting anything since the day I'd met him, which was corny as hell to admit but I'd never felt so free and alive and I'd never experienced anything so exciting. My life was stuck on repeat, living the same boring routine every day up until that day on the bus. God, I was thankful. I was relieved. He cracked a small, uncertain grin at me, and I understood why, and I didn't mind. He wasn't blind to affection, he just didn't understand what it meant. I smiled wider, tipping my head back and giggling gleefully.

And I began to really laugh.

Exhausted after doing what we'd planned to do, I heaved out a sigh of relief and lay flat on top of the Joker's bare chest, wide eyed and out of breath. I quickly glanced up at him and saw that he was just as worn out as I was. My lower stomach felt numb and I was seeing speckles, it was that intense.

He heaved out a laugh of disbelief. "Oh my God." He panted, one hand in his hair, brushing it back.

"That was amazing." I barely whispered, a half smile playing on my lips.

The Joker let out another playful giggle. "I _know_ , right?" He said and I lifted my head to stare at him, rolling my eyes. He smirked teasingly at me and licked the insides of his scars, raising his brows. "What?"

"You are so vain." I said, shaking my head and slowly pushing myself up from his nude body.

"Aw, _c'mon_ ," He whined as I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling my underwear back on. He grinned and lay on his side, propping himself up by his elbow and rubbed lines up and down my bare back with his finger. "You _know_ I'm right."

I tutted and looked back at him, resisting the urge to smile. He grinned triumphantly and I just shook my head, standing up. My knees buckled slightly from numbness and I nearly lost balance, but remained on my feet. Yep, that was intense. "Whatever."

"Where you _going_?" He asked, still laid across the top of my bed.

"Just downstairs," I hummed, pulling a plain black t-shirt over my naked chest. "I'm hungry."

"I'm _glad_ you're, uh, _eating_ again." He hesitantly told me, clearly unsure of whether it was wise to share his emotional opinion or not.

I didn't really know what to say, I was a bit astonished. I wouldn't have thought my eating would've really affected him either way. It was too kind for him... "Put some clothes on." I said, awkwardly avoiding an answer.

"Right." He awkwardly hummed, sitting up to grab his trousers. I grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand and tossed my hair up into a ponytail and left Joker to go downstairs, taking my phone with me.

I decided to make myself some toast and whilst waiting, I checked my phone. I had nine missed calls and five missed texts from Cassidy. I had two missed calls from mom and a pop up from some stranger on Kik asking me to show my tits. I sighed and deleted the stranger text. I wondered if the Joker'd go batshit crazy on the guy if he found out. I smirked at the thought. Unlikely, but he was possessive. It'd be funny.

"Who ya _talking_ to?"

I gasped in shock as Joker came up behind me and set his cold hands on my waist, under my shirt, his voice hot on my ear. I turned my phone off and set it face down on the counter, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"No one, just a friend," I said, placing a hand over my thumping heart. "Jesus, you scared me." I softly laughed.

The Joker nipped at my ear and quickly kissed my neck, not dirtily, just short and sweet. "Not my _intention_ , doll." He mumbled and let go of me, instead standing beside me and leaning against the counter.

I stared blindly at him for a minute, taking in how smudged his makeup was around his lips and cheeks where I'd kissed and grabbed him. I bit my lip softly. My entire mouth was probably just a disastrous mess of red paint. He stared at me sternly as if he was competing in a staring contest I wasn't really a part of. I wondered what he was thinking. Most likely of how easy I was to bend- both literally and metaphorically.

My thoughts were interrupted by the loud pinging of the toaster as the toast popped up, causing me to jump slightly.

The Joker chuckled. "You _usually_ this, uh, _jumpy_ , Stell?"

I swallowed and shrugged, putting the toast onto a plate and buttering it. "I honestly don't know. I'm so on edge today."

"We _can_ , uh, _relieve_ stress _anytime_ you _want_ , y'know. If you know what I _mean_ -ah." He playfully smirked at me, to which I just awkwardly laughed at. I think my legs'd had enough of being pulled around and torn open for today, they were shaking as it was.

I sat on the counter and nibbled at my toast quietly. The Joker sighed in boredom and simply leant his palms against either side of me on the counter, trapping me in. I didn't mind, only continued to eat my toast. He watched me and I watched him, weary of his next move. I gently swung my legs back and forth, my calves just brushing his sides. I finished my toast and he simply stared at me and I crookedly smiled back.

" _Why're_ you _smiling_ at me?" Joker asked, grimacing slightly.

I shrugged. "I think it's because I might love you."

He scoffed. " _Why_?"

I shook my head softly and looked down, biting my lip. "I have no idea. I think I've gone crazy."

He giggled to himself, settling both his hands on my thighs. "You've _only_ , uh, _just_ figured that _out_?"

I rolled my eyes at him and gently shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

Not taking any regards of what I'd just said, he gripped his fingers around my thighs in wanting and pulled me forward, pushing his lips against mine. My stomach had turned to jelly instantly, my mouth softly melting into his as we just kissed for a while. It was so weird. When we kissed like this, just non stop, it didn't feel like a mindless make out session, it felt like real kissing. Just actual, emotional kissing. At least to me it did. I loved kissing the Joker, despite everything he stood for and stood as. Psychopath or not, I slipped like sand between his fingers, and I knew that I was falling for him, falling for him fast, and it was gonna hurt like hell once I land.

He pulled back and hummed against my lips, taking in breath. " _Mmm_. Come _home_ with me."

I sighed lightly and leant back away from him to look at him. "I wish I could."

"Then _do_ it. Come _on_ , Stell," He urged, pushing himself as close to me as possible, only to just press himself up against my knees. He slightly gritted his teeth, holding my waist in his hands. "Let's go _now_."

I raised my brows, settling my hands on his biceps. I nearly gasped in soft pleasure when his fingers trailed up my shirt, but only because he had cold hands. "I can't go now." I reasoned.

"Uh, _yes_ , you _can_. Throw some _jeans_ on, uh, _shoes_ , stuff a couple _panties_ into a bag and we're _gone_."

"I didn't mean literally. I meant emotionally. I can't leave right now, I'm going through a bit of a tough time."

" _C'mon_. It's _just_ like I'm taking you for a _drive_. Y'know, uh, in the _van_? Only instead'a taking you back _here_ , I'm taking you back _there_. Back _home_ ," He said, playing with the ends of my hair. " _Right_ where you _belong_."

I sighed heavily and got off from on the counters, all of a sudden shorter than the Joker again. He sighed just like I did and threw his hands into the air. "So. _That's_ it, huh? You're just gonna _ignore_ me, are ya, Stell?"

I turned to face him, hugging my arms around my stomach. "Don't do this, Jack." I slowly shook my head, my voice soft. He hadn't been so bitter with me for weeks.

He scoffed, his face ominous. " _Don't_. Call me Jack. _Not_ like that. I'm _not_ , uh, _that_ easy to _walk_ over, doll."

"I didn't use the name to persuade you, I used it because it's your _name_ ," I said, slight disbelief on my face. "Listen, you can't always expect me to follow you around like a lost puppy."

"You _do_ enough'a _that_ anyway," He mumbled ignorantly. I stared at him, taken aback. "Y-you _do_. Like I said _before_ , it don't _seem_ like you got _much_ to do other than, uh, stick around _me_ ," Joker said, clicking his tongue. He leant against the counter, me watching him. Was he arguing with me? Was he _mad_ at me? "Uh, you, um, you like the _excitement_. I _get_ it. _Trust_ me, toots, I do," He said, stepping closer to me. I inched backwards until my lower back hit the kitchen table. He shushed me and firmly held my waist in his hands, bringing his lips close to my face. "You _relish_ in the excitement. Your _first_ , uh... 'boyfriend'," He didn't use finger quotes but I could hear it in his voice and saw it in the way he tipped his head. "Your first _fuck_. The first time you've done _bad_. Broke the _rules_ ," Joker whispered, and I uncomfortably sighed. "I _know_ your type _too_ well, dollface. You're a _good_ girl. You wanna be _bad._ So you _seized_ the, uh, _opportunity_."

I softly exhaled. "Is it so bad to want to feel free? To break the routine?"

"It _is,_ " He said, pulling back so we were face to face, his nose pressing against mine. He looked into my eyes the whole time. "And _that's_ why I kept ya. You wanted excitement? I'd be an _ass_ not to give it to ya. Now you _feed_ off of it. You can't _stop_. You want _more_. Can't just _take_ cocaine away from a _drug_ addict, now _can_ we?" He asked me, shaking his head. "But _now_ things are _serious_. _I_ wanna take it a step _further_. You wanted more _fun_? _I'll_ give it to ya. Now you _realise_ , uh, you didn't _plan_ this part out. What would you do when things get _too_ exciting? When the _adventures_ start getting _too_ big? You back _down_. You say you want it to _stop_. You wuss _out_. Y'know, I'm starting to _think_ you're a little bit of a, uh, _coward_ , Stell." He smirked cruelly, knowing very well that he was saying the stone cold truth. I, in a way, knew it too and it drove me up the wall.

"I'm not," I whispered. My voice shook and I mumbled sadly, placing my hands on his, that held my waist. "I love you."

"I _know_ ya do."

"Why don't you ever say it back?" I asked, my eyes welling up slightly. I sucked my lip to resist crying. It just hit me. He might not love me at all. I understood that it was possible for him not to feel love, and I accepted that, but I at least wanted to mean something to him. I didn't want to be a sex toy. "Why don't you ever say you love me too?"

I felt him smirk against my cheek. "'Cause that's a routine I _really_ don't wanna _break_ , Stell. A, uh, an _adventure_ that's too big for _me_ , if you will."

I felt like I was stuck in time. He wasn't scared of commitment. He was scared of attachment. In fact, he didn't fear it, he just knew it'd make him weak. He knew that _I_ could make him weak. Him never saying he loved me was the biggest form of affection I could ever receive from him, and that was something truly and utterly heart wrenchingly exciting.

I let out a breath I unwillingly held. I placed my hands in my lap and wrung my fingers in thought. I just nodded. I simply nodded. He must've understood me, as he grinned triumphantly and chuckled quietly. He knew he'd won me over again, and I didn't regret it for a second.

"Good girl," He said, holding my face and kissing my forehead. I simply stared ahead, breathless. Voiceless. Emotionless. "Good girl."

 _ **Alright, so this was more of a filler, but next chapter is where things really start to kick in. This was kinda corny but meh, I hope you forgive me. Just finished writing chapter 34 in the drafts, this story's catching up with itself *sigh* (but it's a doozy!)**_

 _ **!ALSO (for all you lovestruck Heath Ledger fans)!**_

 _ **There's this movie based off a book starring Heath Ledger called 'Candy', and it's a tragedy romance about this guy called Dan and this girl called Candy. They're heroin addicts. It's on YouTube so if you haven't watched it do it NOW, PLEEEEASE. If you love poetic themes, you'll probably cry at just the way they look at each other (at least I did). When I saw Candy at the beginning of the movie I kinda**_ _ **realised that she looks a little bit like Stella. Just a little.**_

 _ **ANYWAY WATCH IT RIGHT NOW**_

 _ **Oh, and updates might be slow because I've got Math exams coming up and I still have to work on future chapters,**_ __ _ **so please be patient and I hope you all understand. I'm not going anywhere,this story's not going anywhere, I'm too attached to these characters to abandon them lol.**_

 _ **Love you guys, thanks for all the support**_


	25. Chapter 25: Clown Masks & the Car Crash

**Chapter 25: Clown Masks & The Car Crash**

A few nights later and I hadn't heard from the Joker in a while. I didn't worry much, I knew he was fine.

Probably.

In my room, I sighed. Laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling became boring after a while. I considered leaving and going with the Joker for days. I'd resisted calling him simply so he wouldn't bring it up again, or think I was too clingy. I was nervous. He'd actually called _me_ earlier today, and told me to throw on some jeans and boots, apparently coming to pick me up. But it was getting late and I was getting paranoid. He hadn't said anything else over the phone call, only gave me a second to react, say 'yes', and then hung up. It hadn't really occurred to me to worry what we were doing, only get curious about it. The only thing I bothered fretting about was the time he'd come to get me- mom was home and I was scared that we'd end up fighting. Poor woman, she didn't need my selfish attitude at this time.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I heard a driving noise come from outside. I instantly shot up and peeked around the curtains, seeing Joker's black van park across the other end of the street. On instinct, I ran downstairs, ready to leave.

My mom looked up at me from her spot on the sofa as I crossed the living room, her bright glassy eyes glinting in concern. She was sat quite comfortably, watching some series she liked with a Chinese takeaway in her lap. Her skin was peach again, her rosy cheeks beaming when she smiled. The bags under her eyes were almost gone, and she seemed... happy. My mom was back... sort of. It turned out she enjoyed support group a lot more than she thought, although she wasn't really all that fond of the people there. She said that some of them always tried to one-up another, as if tragedy was a competition.

The main thing was, she was getting better.

She'd heard my house keys jingling as I took them from the hook next to the front door. It was dark out and the Joker had plans. I honestly didn't need restrictions to be allowed to go outside, not right now. She had no idea the magnitude of the consequences.

My mom squinted her eyes. "Where the heck're you going at..." She took a second to look at the clock, "Half eleven? And in that?" She skimmed my outfit- skinny jeans, tight combat boots and a tight leather jacket- all black. My hair was tied back into a ponytail. "You look like you're gonna raid a bank, hun."

I shrugged innocently, biting my lip. _Who knows. I might be._ "Um. Cassidy-"

Mom munched and slurped on her food and sent me a cautious glare. "Cassidy's on holiday."

I gulped. _She's right._

"Um..." I hummed, trying to think of an excuse. I felt my face grow red hot in panic and my stomach churned a little. What could I do?

"What's going on?" She asked me, looking suspicious and clearly concerned. It intimidated me.

I took a deep breath. _Lie lie lie lie_. "Mom, I... I met someone."

Silence. That was it. Silence and cold, distant stares passed back and forth. Her eyes looked like hurricanes, her throat swallowing down an awkward lump. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists nervously. I hated this. I was lying. I was complaining that my mom was sneaking off, and now she caught me doing the exact same thing. Only it wasn't for fucking a heroin dealer, it was for fucking a miscreant psychopath, which I was certain was worse, far much worse. It was hypocrisy at its finest.

She swallowed her food and blinked, sitting back. "Who, sweetheart? A boy?"

I sucked on the roof of my mouth and blinked a few times. Who? Christ, wouldn't she like to know. Hell, why don't I just offer to invite him round for Sunday dinner? I'm sure she'd be plenty eager, at least until she realised that the Joker was the 'lovely boy' squeezing her daughter's ass.

I looked down and bit my tongue. "Yeah. A... guy. I... I met him on the bus. A while back. Um," I said, looking back at her, my mouth dry. "He's... he's good to me." Half of it was truth, but I wasn't sure if that last bit was a lie or not. He made me feel like a walking piece of poetry, he made me feel like the exception amongst all the things in his life- but then again, I was always second best. Batman always came first. Chaos always came first. He himself always came first. I'd tangled myself up in a web of torturous love, I'd let the serrated edge of his knife cut me deeper. I suppose being with him was like a weighing scale, there were just as many cons as there were pros- one of them being that he was a rampaging schizophrenic, of course.

My mom's brows raised, but she was frowning. "Is he much older than you?"

I shook my head. "Not by a lot." _Does five years count as a lot?_

She nodded and blinked hard, as if blinking back tears. "Right. And you're going to see him... _now_?"

I nodded, my lips seemingly stuck together, making me stutter, "Please." I wanted to beg, get on my knees right there and then and claw at her ankles, _I love him so fucking much, don't let him hurt me_.

She stared blandly at the floor, sighing shakily. "You're crazy," She breathed out, shaking her head at me. I held in a laugh of self pity. _Trust me, I know._ Then she just shrugged. "Go. I want to see you back by tomorrow morning, Stella. This is just your tit for tat. After what I..." She coughed and dropped the subject.

I went over to her and she stood, and I hugged her tightly. I was _so_ damn grateful. Too grateful. I was happy that she was letting me go into the hands of a murderer. "I appreciate this, mom. I really do." I said, staring behind her as she nodded into my shoulder. She didn't deserve this. This was going to have to be my best kept secret, I'd lock away my lies in a safe and only let them out in my grave. I wasn't sure if I was keeping this a secret for me, for those around me, or for the Joker.

"Stay safe, promise me." Mom said, holding my shoulder and staring me in the eyes.

I stood there for a second, contemplating for a moment, then nodded.

"I promise."

And with that she kissed my cheek and held me tightly once more before letting go. She watched as I grabbed my keys once again from by the front door and I left the house as she gazed from the living room window. Seeing Joker's van parked up ahead, but turned to the other side so the scratches weren't visible, I hoped he wouldn't roll down the window and wave and call me and let the secret out. I turned to look back at the living room window and I gave my mom a slight, crooked wave and a reassuring smile, although fake. She simply smiled through foggy eyes and turned away, presumably going back to eating her takeaway. The relief that soaked through me was absolutely unexplainable.

I caught myself still staring at the window for a moment, thinking of her. I sighed. I was becoming a selfish person.

I went over to the van and got into the passenger's seat, shutting the door with a stressful sigh.

Joker turned to me and grinned wildly, giggling maniacally. "Oh, we're gonna have _fun_ tonight." He laughed excitedly whilst leaning into me, grabbing the back of my neck harshly to kiss me. Without a word I responded, eyes shut and lips parted to kiss him. If there was any drug that worked better than painkillers, it was the Joker. Despite his rough intentions and careless attitude, his kisses were soft and tender and surprisingly full of emotion. I wouldn't call it love, but I knew it was something he'd never think of giving to anyone else. The feeling of kissing him felt like he was passing me a secret that he'd never told anybody before. It felt like a game of Chinese whispers, only I'd grown to love his voice so well that I'd never get his messages mixed up.

But before I knew it, my reeling thoughts came to a stop just as the kiss was. Joker pulled away and left me there, my head hung forward and my lips apart, heaving in much needed air. He grinned and pressed my chin up, closing my mouth. I must've looked like a perch fish.

He sighed confidently as he sat back in his seat, driving out of the road. He was happy, he was on top of the world. He seemed to be dancing on starlight, each step filled with divine purpose. "Wanna _know_ why I'm-ah, _happy_ tonight, doll?"

I sat back in my seat, bringing my feet up on the seat, but not pulling my knees close enough to stay against my chest. I pursed my lips. "Why?"

Joker giggled gleefully as he got to the main streets of the town and that was when he began speeding up and swerving. My eyes widened in shock and I grabbed the sides of my seat. "Getta do my _favourite_ thing in the world with my _favourite_ , uh... _gal_ in the world. Ain't that _neat_ , Stell?" Joker asked me, enthusiastically tapping my knee with his gloved palm. He rarely ever had it gloved and it felt a little distant, as if the material between my touch and his separated us by miles. The leather was thick and cold and it was so different from his warm, smooth, sandpapery hands. But hey, I mean, it was just a glove.

I nodded, not as excited as he was. I had no idea what we were doing, or what he was planning. Hopefully he wouldn't expect to take me back to my house to have sex after it all, mom was home. "It is."

"It's _what_?" He demandingly asked again, looking expectantly at me.

"It's real neat, Jack."

" _Joker_. It's, uh, _Joker_ tonight, hun," He corrected me, looking back out at the road, grinning as he purposely swerved towards any bird or straight for a person as they dodged in fear. I found it twisted and sadistic, like it were a game to him. He'd get extra points for hitting things, maybe a hundred bonus for running over people. "Or _boss_. Can't have ya blowing my _cover_ , now, can we?"

I shook my head obediently. "Nope." I childishly agreed, popping the 'p'.

Joker giggled crazily, his hand reaching over to tease my ponytail like it were a cat's tail. "Atta _girl_."

We passed a few smaller white vans, most of them with Joker-like faces spray painted on them, black eyes and a red grin. I watched them curiously and even managed to peak into the driver's seat to see men with... clown masks. _What exactly are we doing?_

"Hey, Stell," Joker barked for my attention and smacked his lips. I turned. "You _know_ the way to the Iceberg Lounge from here, _dontcha_?"

I looked where we were and nodded. "Yeah, but-"

" _Great_! Now, uh- _honey_ , c'mere and take the _wheel_." He ordered as politely as a man like him could and nearly climbed from his seat if it wasn't for my objection.

" _What_?!" I yelled, my heart pounding. "I can't _drive_!" I shouted as loudly as I could over revving engines and distant gunshots.

The Joker laughed and reached over to pull me on his lap. "Well, _tonight_ you're- uh- gonna have a little _driving_ lesson." He said lowly into my ear, forcing my hands on the wheel. My clammy palms gripped onto the brown leather of the wheel as tightly as I could before Joker let go of my wrists and the steering was up to me.

Needless to say, I was terrified. "Joker, please, I can't-"

He ignored me. " _Now_ , uh, your _one_ foot goes _here_ , on the acceleration pedal- or _whatever_ it's called. Just _don't_ take your foot off it," He instructed, tapping his one leg, the one on the accelerator. "And this _other_ one, is the break."

"What about the other one?" I asked, my eyes glancing down to a third pedal as I tried to focus on the twisty road of Gotham at the same time. I had no idea there was even such a thing as the third pedal.

Joker's mind pulled a blank and he shortly hummed to himself. " _Hm_. Y'know, I, uh, honestly don't _know_. Psht, _whatever_ , it probably ain't _that_ important," He scoffed, patting my leg. " _Right_ , I'm just gonna _slip_ from under you to that _other_ seat. Put your foot down _right_ away- can't be having any, uh, _crashes_ , now can we?"

"You're telling me!" I panicked sarcastically. "Wait, what about the gear st-"

"Go!" He yelled and slipped from under me. I screamed as my foot clambered for the pedal and slammed down desperately. Surprisingly, the van barely swerved and it still moved and my eyes widened in shock of myself. I was driving. Not at all safely, of course, but I was controlling a vehicle all by myself. I felt really out of place and I liked it.

Joker howled loudly in laughter, nearly a shriek of joy. " _See_? You're a _natural_! Ain't _that_ hard, huh?"

"Hah!" I forced a sarcastic laugh as I swerved around a road, nearly driving onto the sidewalk. My eyes squeezed shut as I ran over what could've been either a pigeon or a cat or a person, but either way I was too scared for my own life to bother about theirs. A little morbid, a little selfish, _very_ wrong.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I saw the Joker roll down his window and reach into the back seat where he pulled out a massive machine gun. It was cartoonish, like when they pull canons and stuff out of nowhere. My heart dropped as he cocked it and laughed lowly in his throat. My eyes widened and I had nearly forgotten how to think straight. The gun must've been at least half my height.

"What is that?!" I demandingly screamed over the commotion, trying to focus on not crashing the van. Not only did the precious vehicle hold precious memories of us that only I cared about, but it also held our lives and that was what I cared about most in the then and there.

He grinned wildly at me. " _This_ , Stella dearest, is my _favourite_ toy." Joker nearly shrieked in laughter as he stuck his head and arms out the window and began randomly shooting, not letting himself even breathe through his mixed giggles of delight and relentlessness. His bullets left behind trails of exploding cars and blood and screaming people and I was too scared to even watch as I tried to focus on the road, swerving down a horribly curvy path. The tires screeched painfully and the van would've nearly tipped over if I hadn't used all my strength to turn the wheel.

I sped over a speed bump so ridiculously bumpy at a horribly fast pace that I jumped up and hit my head on the ceiling of the van. I groaned out loudly in pain but it wasn't as if anyone would've heard me. I couldn't even hear myself over the mass commotion.

The Joker pulled back in to reload and as he did, he gave me a rushed, hard kiss on the lips right as I was driving. Not anything loving, not anything caring. Just full of pure adrenaline and energy and that one, tough touch that burnt off all of the excitement he felt. The kiss lasted half a second. I'd only realised it'd happened once it was over. I felt his joy, I felt his anticipation, I could feel that spark, that match that had lit the fireworks in him. I tasted chaos on his lips. And I loved it.

Soon enough the Iceberg Lounge came into view and I had no idea what to do. As we approached, I straight up drove the van right against the sidewalk and slammed the breaks down immediately, causing my chest to heave and slam against the wheel, sounding a loud honk. Joker arched forward as well and as the van's horn bellowed he shot me a quick glare and I swore I nearly saw my own life flashing before my eyes, the disgust that burned within his. But he simply shrugged and smirked.

" _Well_ , at least they _know_ we're _here_ ," He said and opened the glove compartment. In it was a clown mask and a simple handgun and without warning he forced them into my hands. "A _present_ for my... _bunny_." Joker said before he opened the van door and got out, laughing to himself and greeting the other men who turned up, the ones in clown masks and dumb get-ups.

I looked down at the mask I had. It was sad, the eyes stuck in black diamond shapes with dots running down the cheeks and an over-exaggerated red frown. It had an elastic tie on the back to ensure it didn't come off. I stared at the jet black handgun and held it. It was much heavier than I'd expected. I had no idea about guns or what millimetre this or that was, or how big the bullets were or absolutely anything. All I knew was the obvious- pull the trigger, shoot to kill, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt anybody, I didn't have the capability to. Hell, I could barely swat flies with rolled up magazines, let alone kill a man.

I stuck the mask on and sighed, scared. It smelt like him, unsurprisingly. I held the gun anxiously and opened the van door, hopping out. As I walked over near the Joker, machine gun casually rested on his shoulder, I stared up at the Iceberg Lounge. I'd only ever driven past there once, a long time ago, and I wished to visit it with all my heart. Perhaps not like this, but I doubt I'd ever forget this moment. The purplish blue sign lit up reflections in the puddles on the ground and it gave soft lighting to a very... unique scenery. No, I doubted I'd ever forget this. After all, it's not every day you get a date to one of the fanciest lounges in Gotham with the city's most feared homicidal maniacs.

I stepped over towards the Joker, holding my gun timidly by my side, I stopped when some intimidatingly burly guy, one in about twenty seven other men that stood before the Joker, began wolf whistling at me. It reminded me of that guy outside my college campus that one melancholic, rainy day. I immediately looked at the Joker, out of instinct, curiosity and fear for this muscled guy, and his face barely twitched, although I caught the sight of his tongue poking around his cheek in muted irritation.

The broad, burly guy chuckled. "Hey, fellas, s'been a while since we saw a, uh, _lady_ , huh?" He hooted, causing a few others to chuckle in agreement. I felt my shoulders curl upwards as though I was trying to wrap myself up into nonexistence, trying to disappear. I knew they were doing it for the shits and giggles, just to try and intimidate me. It worked. "Hey, boss, after this, can we have a turn with h-"

Before he took another breath the Joker cocked his gun and shot the guy directly in the face, blood spattering over the guys who stood near him. I swallowed a small scream, my lips pursed in shock. My eyes watered with how wide they stayed open, drying up after a moment or two. It was crazy, one minute the guy was stood there talking, laughing, breathing and the next minute half of his head was next to his feet and he was backwards on the ground. I was amazed at how quickly he'd been deleted from the world, how fast he'd... vanished. Death was quick, it didn't wait for you to catch up.

Everybody fell silent. Nobody knew what to do or feel, I didn't know what the hell had just happened. I questioned for a second if this was even real- after all, gunshots were something you saw in the movies, not ten feet away from you on the same patch of road. But this was Gotham, and I had my ankles resting on a psychopath's shoulders half the time. It wasn't exactly a rare chance to see people simply drop dead, wiped from existence.

Joker rested his gun back on his shoulder, sighing and raising his brows, clearly unamused. He was just annoyed. Not at the fact that this guy was 'hitting' on me, but probably because he just wasn't on 'mission'.

Joker huffed, "Y'got _two_ heads, guys. Think with, uh, _this_ one, a'right?" He asked sarcastically, pointing to the head on his _shoulders_ rather than the one... _elsewhere._ Then he changed pace quickly," _Shall_ we?" He mockingly happily asked, turning towards the Iceberg Lounge. All the men took that gunshot as their final and only warning and not a single one of their eerie clown masks turned to even look at me after that. He motioned for them to go in first instead of him, like a sarcastic gentleman and I loyally and fearfully stayed by his side, my breaths becoming fast and ragged. _I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die._

As everyone else went inside, Joker sighed and peered down at me with a slight smirks as though nothing had happened. "Ever _been_ to the Iceberg Lounge, doll?" He asked me, smacking his lips.

I shook my head.

Joker grinned and shrugged. "Not the _first_ experience you had in _mind_ , huh?"

I scoffed lightly. "First time driving, first time at the Iceberg Lounge, and now the first time shooting a gun. Probably. Hopefully not." I honestly admitted, my lungs heaving tightly. I was panicking. I didn't want him to think I was panicking.

Joker gently punched my arm, pushing me forward quite harshly as we made our way to the doors. "There's a first time for _everything_ , toots. Just, uh, _enjoy_ it."

"I'm shooting a _gun,_ Joker," I said in a low tone. "It's not like I'm learning how to ride a bike."

He chuckled, but didn't smile. "Well, once you learn _how_ , you'll _never_ forget. So, it _is_ , uh, _kinda_ like that." He said before he theatrically burst into the Iceberg Lounge, the whole place falling silent.

I shook like a leaf. There were probably hundreds of Gotham's richest in here, and as soon as a clown with a gun walks in, they all fall silent. So much power, so much reputation, yet they all drop to their knees because of one man.

Many of Joker's goons lurked around the room and poked trembling people with their guns, chuckling stupidly. I sheepishly stood behind Joker but made my distance, almost as if I was pretending not to be with him, despite holding a gun and wearing a clown mask. That _might've_ given it away.

"Ladies _and_ gentlemen, I'd-ah, _hate_ to so _rudely_ crash your _party_ like this, but I just have _one_ question," He began, striding around the place as if he owned it. A woman in the back held in a scream as one of his goons tore off her necklace, pocketing it. Joker obviously didn't care. "Where _is,_ uh, Harvey Dent?"

I furrowed my brows, my expression hidden behind that of the sad one on my mask. _What would he want with Harvey Dent?_

Suddenly in response, an old grouchy English voice obnoxiously bursted through the back. Out stepped Oswald Cobblepot, as fat and bird-looking as ever. "No-bloody-where 'round here! Get out of my frickin' lounge, or I'll blow your face to bits!" He threatened, a henchmen of his stepping out from behind him bringing out his own massive gun. My head grew queasy. One wrong slip and it could be _my_ face that'd be the one blown up.

The Joker giggled loudly and looked around, as if looking for a laugh, but only his goons did, and that was out of fear. He then turned to me and glared, expecting a reaction, and I let out a high pitched laugh of my own, fake, of course.

Penguin stared at me. "Who's that you got back there, eh? Another harlequin o' yours?"

Joker looked at me and giggled again. "Mmm, _pretty_ , ain't she?"

I would've blushed in flattery if I wasn't surrounded by thirty criminals, each one owning a gun.

The Penguin didn't answer, only continued to stare at me and chuckle. He then looked back at Joker and I was too caught up in my own panicked thoughts to hear what they were talking about. I had a gun in my hand, a mask on my face and I was surrounded by a fucking gang of criminals holding the whole room at gunpoint. Not my typical Friday night. Honestly, until Joker's call I was planning on watching Mean Girls with my mom, yet here I was.

A glint of tan stood in the corner of my eye and I glanced over to see a muscular henchman with a _giant_ _hammer_ slowly approach Joker as he was speaking. This hammer was so huge it was honestly comical. It was the size of a giant inflatable one, only it was _real_.

All that Joker and the Penguin did was talk, and it was obvious that the little midget was using this as a distraction. Penguin smirked like a maniac and as the henchman brought up the hammer, I reacted on instinct.

Without even thinking about it, my hand raised and my finger clenched around the trigger, shooting wherever, whatever. The gunshot made everyone flinch, including myself and I'd shot the henchman in the arm, causing him to grunt and drop his hammer. Everyone looked over and even the Joker, and the henchman looked furious. He began growling loudly as he marched towards me but I kept my arm raised, looking away with eyes closed and shot him once, twice, a hundred times, and every time I hit him in the chest. But _one_. One bullet landed slap bang in the middle of his skull and he fell to the floor as limp and lifeless as a puppet with cut strings.

 _Oh, shit._

Joker turned back around to see the Penguin glare angrily at me and that was when everyone began shooting. The Joker started off by shooting the henchman next to Penguin and everyone went at it after that as more of Penguin's men came out. The innocents inside began screaming and either ducked or ran. Many managed to make it out yet some stayed in fear, paralysed, or even some (women) were kept behind as Joker's goons groped them or even shot them just for the heck of it. It was madness, absolute inferno. The Joker laughed louder than any noise in the room and nearly twirled as he just shot wherever he damn liked and the Penguin eventually retreated.

My heart stopped. My gun was out of bullets and I was thankful. I dropped it to the floor and it hit the ground with a slam. I stared at the man I shot, laid face down in a puddle of his own blood. There was a clean hole in the back of his head where the bullet went through but was bleeding and oozing parts of brain. I wasn't disgusted by what I saw, just what I did. The blood and guts I could handle, the responsibility and guilt, I could not. I took a man's life and I barely felt.. anything. Just scared. I was numb but I could feel myself sobbing. My whole head had turned to white noise and I was so sure that this was all just some crazy, fucked up nightmare. I didn't shoot anyone, I couldn't have. I didn't have the capability to. I refused to believe it.

"F-fuck..." I stammered, my bottom lip quivering. I curled my toes and felt myself want to vomit. "Oh, _shit..._ what the fucking _... dammit..._ "

During the shooting, Joker looked back at me, too happy and grinning too much to even bother trying to look concerned. He couldn't see the amount of horror of my face of course, behind the mask, but I stared at him with a look that was begging for help. Pleading for us to just _stop_. But all he saw was the sad clown face and he didn't say a word, just laughed and shot.

Before he ran out of bullets, a dark figure crashed through the stained glass ceiling of the Iceberg Lounge. I knew who it was.

"Batman!" Joker gasped mockingly. The shooting stopped. "Oh, you _came_ , I'm _thrilled_! Maybe you could _help_ me on my, uh, little _search_ , yeah?"

"Where is he?" Batman growled in his gravelly voice. The poor guy sounded like he was in need of a cough sweet.

"Who, Harvey?" Joker asked, tutting. "You lost him _too_ , huh? Y'know, that's really-" Batman instantly lunged forward at him but Joker pressed the long barrel of his gun against Batman's throat. "Ah, ah, ah." He tutted, slowly stepping backwards, gun raised. Batman stood stock still, eyeing me thoughtfully, wondering- _who was I_? The Joker then slowly stood behind me and all of a sudden held me in a death grip, tearing off my mask. I screamed lightly and trembled, tears of fear threatening to spill.

 _What is he_ doing _? This is just all for show, right?_

Joker discarded his now empty machine gun and pulled out a smaller handgun, placing the barrel against the side of my head. My breaths rapidly quickened as did my heartbeat and my eyes widened. My gasps caught in my throat and I was on the verge of tears. Batman stood completely still, staring at me, as if trying to place me. " _One_ more step, and she _dies_." Joker threatened, making my heart sink, but the arm locked around my neck wasn't really all that tight and his thumb somehow found my skin and relaxedly rubbed circles, almost comforting me but I was just blinded by terror. I was scared and confused and I wish he'd have pulled the trigger already or let go of me or just done _something_ instead of using me as a goddamn pawn _._

"Drop the gun." Batman ordered, stepping one step closer, as Joker took one back with me.

Joker whistled loudly, specifically to his men and the gunshots began again, many of them dropping their weapons completely to fight the Batman, distracting him. They all seemed like feral dogs, their owner finally letting them at and have it at that piece of meat. It was a scary thing to see. It was barbaric. Batman grunted and rushed at them instantly, as Joker pocketed his gun and pulled us out of the lounge.

"And as for _us_ , well, we're going, uh, _home_." Joker laughed maliciously to himself as he rushed me into the van, and as soon as we were in and I'd belted myself up, he revved up the engine and drove off.

I shook in my seat, terrified. "What was the _point_ of that?" I asked, staring at him.

He smacked his lips. "There, uh, _wasn't_."

My face contorted into one of rage and pure pissed off-ness. "W-what?"

"I was _improvising_. I'm _bored_ , honeybee," The name was teasing yet he slapped a comforting hand on my thigh. "Not with _you_ , of course. My... _sunflower_ ," He giggled jokingly to himself, rubbing my leg cheerfully. "So? Did you _enjoy_ that? _I_ enjoyed that. I _really_ enjoyed that."

I was speechless, gawking at him with my mouth wide open "I... I fucking _shot_ someone, and you're telling me it was for fucking nothing?!"

He grinned widely, as if he were proud. "I know, I _saw_! Y'know," His tongue smooched in his mouth as he turned down a road, much more smoothly than I had. "I _honestly_ didn't think you had it in ya. You, uh, you did _good_." Joker said, rubbing my leg in encouragement.

I buried my head in my hands. "I thought he was gonna kill you. I-I didn't mean to shoot him, I just..." I blinked and looked at him. "I just did and... oh, God." I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, leaning back in my seat. I just wanted to wake up, this couldn't be real.

Joker glanced back at me and softly sighed, taking his hand from my leg to place it back on the wheel. We came up to a familiar road leading up to my street but Joker ignored it completely and drove straight past it. I shot him a look.

"Hey, that was my street, we drove straight past-"

"I _know_ ," He smirked, licking his lips. He leant back cooly against the seat and continued driving. "I know. Uh, _bunny_ ," He giggled. "You just-ah, _sit_ back and don't worry about a _thing_."

"What're you doing?" I asked calmly, my voice soft. I was becoming tired and my fear had worn me out. "Where are we going?"

" _Home_ ," Joker said and then tutted to himself. "Oh, didn't I _mention_?" He rhetorically asked, grinning. " _You're_ coming back with _me_ toni-"

He didn't finish his sentence. A giant black vehicle came speeding into the scratched side of the van and before I could even scream, the entire van was flipped over, hitting the ground on its side, skidding across to a wall. It seemed to carry on for minutes, the tires screeching and the glass smashing, shards scattering like hail.

And all of a sudden, it was over. The van stopped moving. Everything fell silent. Too silent. I scrambled to find my chest, finding my heartbeat. Oh my God, I was alive. I sighed in relief. I was okay.

 _Joker_.

I dared to open my eyes and saw the Joker underneath me, against the smashed window of the driver's seat, unresponsive. My stomach churned, my emotions numbing.

I screamed for him and my bloody hands fumbled for my belt buckle, undoing myself from the seat. My first priority was to crawl over to the Joker and I whimpered, reaching out for him. He hadn't worn his belt. "No," I whispered, placing my hands on his face. "No, no, no, no...!" I started to panic, tears welling up in my eyes. I could hear him breathing, but he wouldn't move. He couldn't move. I held his shoulders and shook him, turned his head to see blood trickling down his forehead down to his cheek. A droplet of blood swam down his scars, the scars cradling the blood between all the cracks.

For the first time in my life in a long time, I was actually terrified. Finding out he was a murderer in the beginning was nothing compared to how scared I was now. I could lose him. I could lose him forever. Now I understood. Now I understood why he feared attachment, and why he wouldn't say he loved me outside of sex. I finally grasped his concept. This was the adventure that I hadn't planned for, the adventure that might've been just too big. I exhaled, my lungs shaking violently, and I held onto his shoulders. I leant forward and laid across his chest, burying my head under his chin. I began to quietly cry, tears slipping down my cheeks. I wanted him to wake up. I wanted the van to be upright, and see his one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh, I wanted him to tease me, call me names, let me on his lap, kiss me, touch me- I wanted him to wake up. The thought that he might not've was the scariest thing in the world to think of.

I desperately tried to stop crying, my breaths growing short. For a second, when I held my breath, I could hear his heartbeat. My throat swelled and my heart jumped. I placed my ear back to his chest. I could feel his chest rising and falling. He was alive. Oh my _God_ , he was alive.

Through tears of joy I whimpered happily, knotting my arms around him and hugging him as tightly to myself as I could. He wasn't awake, and I took the chance to be as affectionate and as cuddly and as corny as I wanted to be. He couldn't judge me now. I buried my nose into his jacket and inhaled softly, taking in his scent like a drug. God, it smelled like safety and comfort and the thing I loved most in this world- the Joker. I reached up to kiss his closed lips, stroking his scars with my thumbs. He was alive, he was okay, he was breathing, and he'd made it. That was enough for me.

I nearly smiled at the thought, but the pain that rung throughout my head was too much to handle. The shock was exhausting, but now I knew he was alive... I think I was going to be okay.

As glass lightly crunched between the weight of our bodies and the sirens in the distance wailed further and further away, my eyes drooped shut, and I was almost certain it was the end, if it weren't for the reassurance of his light, soft, bubbling breaths erupting from his chest reminding me that so long as we were alive, it was never the end.

 _ **Haha I suck at writing dramatical scenes :)**_

 _ **YES STELLA WAS SO OOC AND THIS WAS HELLA CHEESY. I feel like the scriptwriter of Life is Strange, it's that cheesy.**_

 _ **Meh, it's been 2 weeks, I don't wanna leave you without an update :(**_

 _ **Hope you tolerated this corny ass chapter, hopefully it'll get better :/**_


End file.
